


Monsters

by HarisaEnaja



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7521949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarisaEnaja/pseuds/HarisaEnaja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin had always thought that Arthur wouldn't last a week without him. But the joke was on him because banished and on his own, he hadn't even lasted three days without his king.- Merlin gets captured by some not nice people and Arthur and the knights have to come rescue him. Reveal!Fic Mostly cannon relationships. LOTS OF WHUMP! ANGST ALL AROUND! a bit of BAMF!Merlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exodus

 

This had to be the most boring thing Merlin had ever had to sit, or more accurately stand, through. He was standing dutifully beside the throne while two peasants from the lower town argued with each other before the King. He could tell Arthur wasn’t paying much attention either, his eyes having a glassy film to them, but he had been trained from birth to mask his emotions and was doing a good deal better at concealing his boredom.

“It was your goat! You should have to pay for the damages!” One of the men practically screamed at the other.

“Well if you hadn’t let him loose, he wouldn’t have damaged anything!” replied the second. The two men glared at each other, loathing coming off their persons in waves.

“Wait, you released his goat?” Arthur asked the first man, confused.

“He did!” The second man interrupted before the first could answer the question “your majesty he hates me, and has tried to murder my goat on serval occasions. He deserves every bit of damage my Betsy did!”

The first man colored in the face and immediately got defensive.

“My lord, that is a lie! I…..”

Arthur wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes and kick out the pair of them. But he was king, and as king he had to appear wise and patient, even if he was neither of these things. His wandering gaze landed on Merlin. The manservant was fidgeting around, shifting his weight from foot to foot and looking every bit as bored as Arthur felt. He looked skinny (skinnier than normal, that is) and Arthur frowned with concern. An outbreak of some mystery disease had struck a nearby village, so Gaius had been sent to help with Sir Gwaine as an escort. They would only be gone for a few days, but it meant Merlin wouldn’t have a meal waiting for him at the end of the day. Arthur made a mental note to sit him down and force him to eat later.

He had to suppress a sigh as he thought about how utterly hopeless his manservant was. The boy couldn’t take care of himself if is life depended on it and often showed little to no regard for his own wellbeing. But, it didn’t matter because Arthur was resolved to look after him, even if that meant force feeding him once and a while. It was his responsibility. He supposed they balanced each other out in that way.

Suddenly there was a tremor throughout the hall, shaking the chandelier and rattling the windows.

“What was that?” Gwen asked from her own throne on Arthur’s other side. The King was almost thankful for the mysterious interruption (anything to stop the incessant arguing over a goat). However the feeling of relief was temporary as there was another shake to the room and suddenly Morgana was standing before him flanked by seven men dressed all in black with black masks hiding their faces.

“Hello Brother.” She said with an arrogant smirk. The peasants stopped their arguing and moved to cling to the walls with the nobles, as far away from the witch as they could get. Arthur and the knight’s present drew their swords, Mordred with a sad look at the woman before him.

“You are not welcome here Morgana.” Arthur stated with deadly calm. The dark haired witch laughed and snapped her fingers. It was a signal to the masked sorcerers; they disappeared into black smoke then reappeared behind Gwen and each of the knights holding long knifes at their throats.

“Drop the sword Arthur.” Morgana demanded, a gesture of her hands making it clear what would happen if he didn’t. Arthur reluctantly did as he was told, and as soon as the sword left his hands a masked intruder bound them together behind his back.

“Relax Arthur.” Morgana cooed as he struggled with the bonds, for a moment sounding like her old self. “I’m not here for _you_.”

Startled, Arthur glanced around, looking for who or what she might be after. He saw Merlin, standing exactly where he had been, staring at Morgana with an angry expression. Somehow, she had overlooked him (probably thinking he wasn’t much of a threat) and he was without a magical guard. Arthur wanted to scream out for the other man to run, but was afraid of drawing Morgana’s attention to him. Despite this, the witch’s eyes gravitated to Merlin.

Morgana strutted up to Merlin until they were standing about a foot away from each other, looking eye to eye. They stared at each other, not saying anything until Merlin finally broke the silence.

“You know, don’t you?” He whispered with a resigned sigh.

“I know.” She confirmed with a curt nod. Arthur glanced around at Gwen and the knights to see if any of them knew what was going on. They all looked as lost as he did, except Mordred, who was watching the pair in the center of the hall with a growing horror.

“You could have helped me.” Morgana stated in a whisper that mirrored Merlin’s, and Arthur was struck by how truly odd that was. Every time he had seen her since her betrayal, she had been angry or gloating, at least confident. But confident was the last thing her expression projected.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin said with a deep sincerity that confounded Arthur even more. What on earth did Merlin have to be sorry to Morgana about?

Morgana for her part took the apology with wide eyes that barely held back tears. She looked like she was about to say more, but then looked away shaking her head. When she looked back at Merlin her familiar expression of rage was once again contorting her beautiful features. She brought a hand up and slapped Merlin hard across the face.

“I don’t want your apologies.” She sneered, pushing him away. Arthur fought hard against his bindings

“Leave him alone!” He yelled at his sister, hopping to distract her from the defenseless manservant. It worked, and Morgana looked at him with wide eyes as if she’d forgotten he was even there. Suddenly she broke out into an earsplitting grin.

“Oh, but you don’t know, do you?” She asked mischievously with a glance over her shoulder at Merlin “He doesn’t know, does he?”

Merlin couldn’t hope to conceal the fear that was raging through him. Arthur couldn’t find out now, not like this!

“Maybe I should show you.” She told Arthur with a wink, then pulled out a beautiful ornate dagger, the same one he had once given her for her birthday so long ago. She gave him an evil look, then flung the dagger straight at his heart.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Arthur registered hearing Gwen and a few of the knights call out in terror, but his eyes were fixed on Merlin so he got a full show when the manservant threw out his hand and his eyes turned bright gold; freezing the dagger inches from the king’s chest.

Arthur felt like he was going to be sick.

Morgana cackled, clapping her hands together with glee and then mock applause.

“Well done, Merlin.” She said “Not even an incantation, you must be more powerful than I thought.”

Merlin refused to look at Arthur, terrified of what he might find there. Instead he glared at the gleeful Morgana. If she thought this was the extent of his powers, she obviously hadn’t figured out that he was Emrys yet. The question that had been bugging him since the moment she walked in bubbled to the forefront of his mind.

“How did you figure it out?”

The witch’s most annoying smirk was back as she gestured to the dark figures she’d brought into the hall.

“The men you see before you are the Assassins of Arisine, legendary for their mastery of the most deadly magic’s. I sought them out as a way to be rid of my brother here and they showed me how to scry on my enemies. They can see when a person has magic you know. But the interesting thing is that they also told me of a druid prophecy about Arthur; the prophecy of the once and future king.”

She cocked her head at Merlin, studying him carefully.

“Is that why you do it? The prophecy? Is that why you would betray your own kind?” she asked, seeming almost as desperate to understand as Arthur felt. Merlin didn’t answer her, but continued to stand straight backed and regal, oozing defiance.

Morgana reached out and grabbed the collar of his jacket, dragging him near until their faces were close together again.

“Arthur hates magic. As he now hates you. He will never repeal the ban!” She taunted him, as if she were explain the simplest fact to a delusional child.

_He hates you_ , Arthurs mind whirled at Morgana’s words and he barely heard what was said after as his conscience bit at the vile statement, at how utterly _wrong_ it was. He tried to convey with his eyes how false her words where, if Merlin would only look at him. But then he remembered what was happening, how Merlin had lied to him, and he wondered for the briefest of seconds if it was so false after all. He was so caught up in his internal struggle with his feelings, that he almost missed Merlin’s answer.

“I know.” Merlin spat back at her with hard eyes, then his whole body slumped. He cast a defeated gaze at the floor, the opposite direction of Arthur.

“I once had faith in the prophecy, but that ended a long time ago.”

Arthur vaguely heard a gasp of shock from Mordred and glanced at the young knight. He was staring at Merlin with a newfound dismay that Arthur didn’t quite understand.

But Merlin wasn’t done.

“I don’t care anymore.” He whispered quietly, yet the whole hall seemed to hear. “I don’t care about the prophecy, I don’t care if Arthur ever brings magic back. It doesn’t change anything. I will still protect him until my last breath.”

He spoke with such quiet conviction and resignation, as if he didn’t have a choice in the matter. His words reminded Arthur of another time, when he’d said something similar.

_I’m happy to be your servant until the day I die_ he’d said. Except he didn’t look happy now. He looked like this fact made him sad, like it was hurting him, and Arthur realized that it was.

“You can’t……”Mordred stuttered and all eyes snapped to him, but he didn’t notice, emotional anger contorting his features.

“You can’t really think that Emrys!” Merlin flinched at the word and Morgana’s eyes went wide, but again Mordred took no notice “It’s your destiny!”

“Emrys!” Morgana hissed, and dropped Merlin like he was a hot poker. “No!” She half scream, “No you can’t be! I’ve seen him, Emrys is an old man!”

The silence that echoed through the halls after her desperate declarations was broken by a soft, humorless chuckle that sounded horribly out of place. It took Arthur a few seconds to recognize the sound had come from Merlin. The warlock slowly raised his gaze to look at Morgana, a smirk donning his elfin features.

“Oh Morgana.” He clucked, and Arthur was inexplicably reminded of a snake drawing back and giving one last warning before it struck. “You should know better than to fall for a simple aging spell.”

Morgana made an inhuman shriek of rage and shot a hand out in front of her, directing an enormous blast of blood red lightning straight at Merlin, who threw himself to the side and rolled out of the way just in time. A light appeared and started to glow in the palm of the masked sorcerer who held Arthur, getting brighter as the spell charged to release a destructive blast. Arthur flinched away, expecting his life to end with excruciating pain as the spell was fired at him….

But no pain came. Peeing open one eye at a time he was able to see the air directly in front of him shimmer from an invisible shield that had reflected the spell right back at the sorcerer. Arthur glanced over and caught sight of Merlin’s eyes fading back from gold to blue, hand still extended in their direction. Both Arthur and the Assassin glanced down at the Assassin’s chest and witnesses a gapping, steaming hole where Arthur could see right through the man. The Assassins’ eyes widened in alarm before he toppled backward, dead. With another flash of his eyes, Merlin released Arthur from his bindings.

Morgana shrieked again and let loose another spell at Merlin, this one bright orange. The warlock spun with cat like reflexes and another shimmering barrier stopped the spell and it ricocheted up, disintegrating a part of the arch holding the ceiling up. Arthur’s hands flew up to protect his head as the dust and debris rained down on him.

“Arthur!” Gwen screamed, her call for help getting the attention of both Merlin and the king. Arthur’s stomach rose into his throat as he saw one of Morganas masked sorcerers holding his knife to Gwen’s throat and getting ready to rake the blade across her tender flesh. He lunged for her, knowing he was much too far away to get there in time…

But then suddenly Merlin was there, his hand seizing the assassin’s wrist, stopping the blade while his eyes stared menacingly over Gwen’s shoulder at her attacker. He’d been all the way across the room not even a second before. Those fierce eyes flashed gold once again and the man’s blade turned bright red as if heated from the fires of a forge. The man screamed, dropping the blade and letting Merlin pry his arm away from Gwen. As soon as she was able, she fell out of his grip and scampered away as fast as she could, colliding with Arthur who had rushed to her side.

Merlin still stared at the man in his grip as the knife levitated off of the floor and embedded it’s self in the man’s heart.

The other five assassins seemed to finally realize that Merlin was the major threat in the room, and abandoned their hostages to coordinate a joint attack on the manservant.

Merlin’s normally jovial face contorted with rage as the five men who moments ago had been threatening his friends advanced toward him. He raised a hand into the air, fingers spread wide and his palm open, and in once swift movement his eyes flashed gold and he clenched his hand into a fist with sharp finality. As one all five sorcerers’ necks snapped to the side and they all fell to the ground, never to rise again.

Silence filled the hall as Morgana, Arthur, Gwen, the knights and the court all stared in open mouthed horror and the cold efficiency and power of the unassuming warlock before them. Never had any of them, not even Morgana, imagined such ruthless death being carried out so swiftly, least of all by _Merlin_.

Merlin’s cold eyes drifted to Morgana and he slowly raised his hand at her.

“This isn’t over.” She warned and before he could cast his spell, she disappeared into a whirlwind of black smoke.

Silence returned and the tension in the air was palpable as all eyes seemed to be fixed on Merlin, mostly with fear. Merlin gulped, and looked finally to Arthur, who stood with Gwen tucked protectively under his arm. The king wasn’t looking at him, he was gazing at the bodies that littered his throne room with open mouthed shock and revulsion.

“Arthur.” Merlin choked out and made a staggered step in the king’s direction.

“Don’t!” Screamed Arthur and he acted with a warriors instincts shoving Gwen behind him and leveling his sword at the man he thought he’d known. “Don’t come any closer.”

 Merlin froze in place and obeyed the king, not coming any closer, but his lips quivered and he swallowed hard trying to suppress the emotion that was trying to take over his body. He tried to call out his friends name again, begging for understanding. This time his voice came out broken and croaky. “ _Arthur_.”

 “I SAID DON’T!!!” Arthur shouted, and his whole body shook. Merlin was suddenly reminded of the only other time he had seen Arthur that angry, when he had tried to kill his father. He unconsciously took a step back from the kings furry. They stared at each other, until Arthur looked away, his gaze once again falling on one of the bodies on the floor

 “You killed them.” Arthur accused after a few steadying breaths. “You killed them all, with just a wave of your hand.”

 “They were trying to kill you.” Merlin inserted trying to apply some logic, some semblance of justification, and not only for Arthur’s benefit. There was a growing revulsion building in the back of his own mind and the brutality of his actions.

 “You…..”Arthur said, trying to find the right words to communicate his disgust, his hurt, his pain and deal some of it back. He found them.

 “You’re a monster.”

 Merlin stumbled back, blinking as if he’d just been slapped. He stopped breathing and his mouth dropped open in horror. He had known for a long time that Arthur wouldn’t accept him and his magic if he were ever discovered, but this was his deepest and darkest fears come true. Without being conscious of his actions, he dropped to his knees as if they had been kicked out from under him. His eyes swelled with tears as he gazed up at the man who was the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother.

 “You don’t mean that.” He whispered, more trying to reassure himself than to convince Arthur. He had to believe he didn’t mean it. At least for right now, so that he could compose himself enough to stand, to function.

 “Yes I do.” Arthur hissed. He glared at Merlin with a look the warlock had never seen before, but it distorted his features so that he suddenly looked very much like his sister and it broke Merlin’s heart.

 For Arthur’s part, the emotions that swam through his veins were very clear. Merlin had betrayed him, and chosen to practice magic. He had chosen this, and because of it, Magic had corrupted his soul so that the man he had loved like a little brother had been destroyed and left a murdering sorcerer in his place. At that moment, Arthur hated the man before him. He hated him because he had murdered the man he loved.

 “Magic is evil.” Arthur declared annunciating each word. Of course it was evil! It had twisted the kindest, most loving heart he knew into a man whom he’d just witnessed kill seven people without blinking. “As are those who practice it. You are _evil._ ”

 Merlin lowered his head, all hope for composer evaporating. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be dead, for some merciful being to cleave his head from his shoulders and put him out of his misery. Yet the thought of Arthur being the one to end him scared him more than he could possibly say. He didn’t want it to be Arthur. Anyone but Arthur.

 Arthur was coming to similar conclusions as he felt the weight of the sword in his hands get heavier and heavier. Thoughts and images of Merlin laughing, Merlin smiling, Merlin glaring good-naturedly at him, fought their way unbidden into his mind to compete with the desolate and broken creature who knelt before him with his neck exposed, waiting for Arthurs killing stroke.

“Get out.” Arthur finally snapped, dropping his sword and turning away from Merlin. He used both hands to steady himself against the wall and let his head drop listlessly between them as he spoke. “You are fired. Take a horse, and ride as fast as you can. Be out of the kingdom by sun down or _I swear to god_ no power on earth will stop me from ending your miserable life.”

Merlin had slowly raised his head to look at Arthur when he spoke. At first he didn’t understand. Get out? What was Arthur saying? Then he got it. He was being banished. Banished from Camelot and from Arthur. A panic rose in him, how was he supposed to protect Arthur if he was banished? He wanted to protest, to explain that he couldn’t leave for Arthur’s own safety, but Arthur wasn’t looking at him and he was terrified to summon back the king’s gaze, still haunted by the hate in the face of the man he had devoted his life to.

 So instead he settled for bowing his head back down and choking out a strangled “Yes, My lord.”

 Two sets of strong hands seized his arms and dragged him to his feet. Merlin had quite forgotten that there were other people in the room while he was talking to Arthur. It was Leon and Percival that forcible turned him and led him out of the room. Their grip on his arms were firm and controlling, but not unnecessarily tight or hurting. Leon wouldn’t look him in the eye, but Percival gave him a sad gaze as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

  _Emrys_ Mordred’s voice appeared in his mind. Merlin’s eyes slid over to the boy’s as he was guided out of the room. Mordred’s eyes were red and he looked like he’d been crying. He looked lost.

_How could you Emrys? How could you have lost faith in the prophecy and not tell me? You **knew** he would react this way?!?? You **knew** he would never repeal the ban??!?!?_ Mordred’s voice was angry and scared. He sounded very much like he had when they had first met, when he was still but a child. Merlin wanted to comfort him, to reassure him with the false promises he had constantly spewed that ‘Arthur would come around’ that ‘one day they would be free’. He just didn’t have any strength left for it. So he blocked out Mordred and let the knights lead him down to the stables.

Arthur took a few shuttering breaths after Merlin had been led from the room before spinning around and attempting to storm out. He was stopped by Gwen’s gentle hand on his arm.

 She looked up at him with a terrified expression.

 “Arthur, wait!” She cautioned, and Arthur was unsure if she was trying to get him to wait before leaving, or to wait before banishing his manservant from their lives forever. He wished to stay and talk about neither one, the second option already completed and irreversible in his mind. So he gentle pulled out of her grasp and strode out of the room, stepping over the dead body of a sorcerer as he went.

 

* * *

 

Percival left them as soon as they were out of sight while Leon continued to lead Merlin directly down to the stables. The warlock walked with him in a daze. He’d been banished, and it didn’t feel real. It was like some horribly realistic nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

“Wait, my things!” he exclaimed, suddenly realizing he had none of his belongings with him.

“When a person is banished, all of his or her personal belongings are forfeit to the crown.” Leon said softly as they reached the stables.

Oh, of course. Merlin knew that. He’d just…forgot.

Percival joined them again, and he had with him a large travelling pack outfitted with food and a proper bed roll. He handed the items to Merlin, then began saddling the brown mare named Red whom he knew was Merlin’s favorite.

“I can’t take this!” Merlin said, startled. The items were obviously of a much better quality than he could afford.

“We won’t tell if you won’t” Leon whispered, then eyed Merlin appraisingly. “You’ll need a cloak.” He then took his own red one off his back and folded it up. Merlin reluctantly reached out to accept it from him and Leon flinch away from his outstretched hand. Suddenly Merlin was fighting tears again.

“Why are you being kind to me?” He asked miserably, self-hate seeping into his soul. Leon steeled himself and looked Merlin in the eye, despite his obvious unease.

“You just saved my life and the life of my king from a mad woman and seven assassins. I figure you’re owed some dues for that.” He said, managing a tiny smile at Merlin as Percival finished securing the supplies to the horse and led her out for Merlin to mount.

“Take care of yourself Merlin.” The big knight said with kind eyes and gods bless him he managed to look like he really meant it. Merlin looked down at them both and couldn’t help the few tears that escaped and rolled down his cheeks.

“Promise me you’ll protect Arthur.” Merlin commanded of both of them, needing to hear them say that he was not abandoning the king to be helpless. “And tell Gaius not to worry.”

“Of course.” Percival affirmed and Leon nodded.

“We promise.”

Merlin nodded somberly to them both, realizing it might be the last time he ever saw them, the men who had become his friends despite their station differences. A wave of gratefulness washed over him, that he had had the privilege of getting to know those men, even if it had been for a short time and under the pretense of a lie.

Then Percival slapped the hind of the horse, who reared up startled. Merlin had little choice but to spur her on and he thundered off in a gallop, racing through the city streets, through the great gate in the lower town until he left the city completely and was able to disappear under the dark cover of the forest. Only then did he spare a second to reign in the horse and glance back at the castle he had made his home for the past decade.

A tear fell onto his cheek as he remembered Gaius, and Gwen and the Knights of the Round Table, he remembered Cook and Morgana (the early days) and even _George_.

But mostly he remembered Arthur, and it took everything he had not to put on a disguise and rush back to his Kings side. It was the look of hate at the end that finally made him turn away. No, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t face that look again.

But neither as he going to leave Arthur magically defenseless either.

 

* * *

 

Arthur practically ran up to his room, not even noticing the startled servants who scurried to get out of his way. Some of them were concerned by the disturbed and distraught look on their beloved king’s face, but most figured Merlin or the queen would comfort him.

He slammed the door behind him and raked a hand through his golden hair. This couldn’t be happening, what he had just seen couldn’t possibly have been real. He had just banished Merlin. _Merlin_!

A shot of panic raced through his heart at the realization that Merlin would be gone forever, that he would never see him again. The last image he would have of his dark haired friend would be the pitiful shadow of a person that had been kneeling on the floor before him.

But that was wrong. He would also be left with the image of Merlin standing over fallen bodies, his eyes glowing gold. The memory repulsed him because it was everything opposite of the Merlin he knew. His Merlin was goofy and smiling. His Merlin was clumsy and his only form of self-defense was his endearing personality. His Merlin was loyal above all else and all others. The man in the throne room had been cold and dangerous. He had broken the law and turned to magic, betraying everything Arthur and his father had stood for.

Arthur pressed his forehead against the cold window pane, struggling to control his emotions. He heard a clatter and watched as a lone figure, painfully familiar, took off in a full gallop through the lower town. The figure crossed through the gate and disappeared into the forest without looking back.

An instinctual fear rose in Arthur’s gut the second Merlin was out of sight. What had he done? Merlin couldn’t be out on his own! The idiot forgot to feed himself on a daily bases, there was no way he would last long without Arthur there to protect him!

But that had been the old Merlin, he reminded himself. This new Merlin was a sorcerer, and a deadly one at that. Arthur had seen the proof with his own eyes. He didn’t need Arthur. Maybe he never had. It was this thought that hurt him like a blow from a poisoned blade, the wound festering the more he thought about it. How long had Merlin been betraying him? It couldn’t have all been a lie, could it?

Part of him wished he had waited and interrogated Merlin before sending him away; asked him when exactly he had decided to sell his soul for power! A bigger part of him was glad he hadn’t because he was terrified of the answers.

A sudden rage filled the king and in a fit of anger, he swept all the books and papers off of his writing desk. He kicked viciously at his chair, flinging it across the room and getting a stubbed toe in return. He aimed a punch at his armor, which was on precious display in the corner, when he caught sight of his refection. The man staring back at him was crazed, driven to insanity with anger and grief and for a second he saw both his father and his sister reflected in his features. He took a deep breath, horrified, and stepped back.

The only reason he could see his reflection in his armor was because Merlin had polished it earlier that day. He had done so lovingly and thoroughly, not missing a spot, and had displayed the armor with pride to Arthur. The king’s eyes prickled at the memory.

He had called Merlin a _monster_ , when in all reality the creature reflected back at him was probably more deserving of the tittle. He too had killed, and for far less noble reasons than the defense of others. Suddenly he desperately wanted to talk to his manservant, to ask what had driven him to this, what he had missed that had made his best friend so desperate as to turn to _magic_!

But Merlin was gone. And with the things Arthur had said to him, even if he begged Merlin still was unlikely ever to come back.

So Arthur collapsed to the floor of his destroyed bedchambers and cradling his head in his hands, he cried.


	2. Time Apart

Gilli gulped down the majority of his mead and slammed the cup down on the table determinedly. His eyes wandered over to follow Daisy, the busty blonde bar maid, with resolution. Today was the day. Today, he was going to work up the courage to talk to her!

He fingered the magic ring in his pocket, fighting the urge to put it on. He could do this. He didn’t need a magic ring to talk to a girl. He could do this! With one last inhaled breath, Gilli moved to get to his feet….

And was blocked as a hooded figure slipped into the seat beside him.

“Excuse me, but I’m about to go meet the love of my life.” Gilli told the stranger and tried to move past him. The man chuckled, the sound hauntingly familiar, but he couldn’t place the voice to a name until the man spoke.

“Sorry Gilli, but she’ll have to wait. I need a favor.”

“Merlin!” Gilli exclaimed, shaking his friends hand with honest pleasure at seeing the man. But then his words registered and the grin slid off his face.

“I’m not going to like this favor very much, am I?”

Merlin had the decency to wince and look a fair bit ashamed of himself.

“No, sorry Gilli but I don’t think you will.”

Gilli sighed and shrugged. He did owe Merlin, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Merlin could probably blast his socks off if he wanted to, but besides that; the dark haired man was his friend. Even in the dingy light of the tavern, he could see the set of Merlin’s face and watched him with concern.

“Hey, are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine.” Merlin brushed off his concern with practiced words Gilli didn’t believe for one second “it’s just been a trying couple of days, that’s all.”

Gilli nodded, understanding that Merlin probably needed his space and wouldn’t push him to talk about something he didn’t want to.

“So what’s this favor?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I need you to go to Camelot and protect Arthur.”

Gilli spluttered and coughed, spitting out the most of the sip he’d just taken.

“Are you completely mad?” He hissed at the warlock “Go back to Camelot? The place where magic is illegal and _they cut off your head_ for it? To protect _the King_ who would be _the one cutting off my head!?!?”_

“Gilli, please.” Merlin looked at him with a desperate kind of look in his eyes that made him think that the situation really must have gotten bad. He took another swig of his drink knowing full well that he couldn’t deny his fellow sorcerers request. He wasn’t happy about it though.

“Why can’t you do it?” He complained “I though protecting the king of Camelot was your pet project?”

Merlin gulped and looked away. In fact, he looked like he was fighting not to burst into tears right there in the pub and suddenly Gilli felt guilty for asking the question. He didn’t think Merlin was going to answer until the other man squeaked out in a small voice;

“I’ve been banished.”

Gilli let out a low whistle of appreciation. Yes, things really had gotten bad. If he had thought Merlin seamed lonely before, he couldn’t imagine what the road ahead held for the good hearted warlock. He placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He said sincerely. “If you need me to go protect Arthur, then I can be in Camelot by tomorrow night.”

Merlin wiped the tears from his eyes, so grateful to have a friend like Gilli and also relieved that Arthur would have another person to look after him.             “Thank you. And you won’t be alone! I’ll have to put you in touch with Alator and the Catha so you can coordinate watching him in shifts. They’ve agreed to help protect him as well, and I’ll show you where I’ve set up all the magical wards and warning systems within the castle.”

“Are you expecting an attack?”

            “Arthur can hardly go a week without being attacked by _something._ ” Merlin said with a roll of his eyes. He handed Gilli a map and pointed out all of the warded areas, as well as some secret tunnels and passageways that would help them to move around without being seen. When they were done, Gilli resolved to set off first thing in the morning as Merlin made to leave.

            “Merlin?” He called after him. The warlock pulled on a dark blue cloak that Gilli’s trained eye could tell had been magic’d from its original color. “You’re going to be alright, aren’t you?”

            Merlin flashed Gilli a sad smile that didn’t ease the sorcerer’s worries. He pulled up his hood, hiding his face and disappeared into the night.

 

* * *

 

 

            Arthur sat up in bed with jolt, his heart racing and his breathing coming in quick heaves. Beside him, Gwen slept on peacefully and he was careful not to wake her as he swung his feet out of the bed. This was the second night in a row he’d had nightmares, and coincidently the second night after Merlin had been banished. Arthur rested his elbows on his knees, trying to expel the remnants of his dream and replace them with reality.

            He had dreamed that he was burning a sorcerer in the courtyard. From the balcony he had looked down at the pyre and the growing crowd as the faceless sorcerer was attached to the stake. There was no remorse or hesitation when he’d given the order to light the fire, only the satisfaction that came from eliminating another threat to his people.

            But as the fire had crackled and the sorcerer had screamed in pain, the voice crying out becoming more and more familiar. Looking down again, he could just make out Merlin’s very familiar features through the crackling flames. The voice too became more distinct and Arthur suddenly recognized that Merlin wasn’t crying out in pain, but was screaming Arthurs name over and over again- a desperate plea for help.

            That’s when Arthur had woken, right at the moment of realization that his friend was going to die by his hand and calling out for him to help. A shudder racked his shoulders, the dreams awful clarity haunting him every time he blinked.

            And then reality seeped in and it was almost as bad as the dreams. The cold hard truth was that Merlin was gone, forever. Arthur was never going to see him again. On the bright side (or more like dark grey side), this meant that there was no way for Arthurs dream to become a reality. Out of all the shocks he had encountered in the throne room that day, the one he understood the most was his absolute certainty that no matter what, he would never burn Merlin like his father had burned so many other sorcerers. That would never happen. He didn’t think he could execute Merlin by _any_ means. Killing Merlin just seemed too much like killing a part of himself.

            Suddenly restless, Arthur threw on a pair of boots and a loose tunic. He let his feet wander, the castle mostly deserted in the infantile hour of the morning. He needed space and room to think, and that happened best when he was moving.

            His feet somehow led him to the physician’s chambers and it was only because he knew no one would be inside that he let himself in. They were exactly the way he had always remembered them, smelling slightly of herbs and paper. The only differences being the absence of the light, which cast the room into shades of grey and blue giving it a dejected feel, punctuated by the absence of another human soul. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had been in that room without either Merlin or Gaius being present as well.

            He made his way to the back, and without stopping to really consider why he was doing it, Arthur went into Merlin’s room. It too was exactly how he remembered it, Merlin’s other set of clothes still laying out neatly on a chair by the bed where he’d left them. Arthur gingerly picked up the light blue handkerchief, (Merlin had been wearing the red one when he left) and ran the material through his fingers.

            He sat down on the bed and missed Merlin so much it hurt. Over and over again he questioned himself, why? Why had Merlin chosen magic? Had it been Arthur’s fault? He had always teased Merlin about being useless and called him an idiot, but he’d never meant those things. Surely Merlin knew that? Arthur hoped to any higher power who would listen that this hadn’t been Merlin’s motivation. He hoped he hadn’t been the one to drive Merlin to the Dark Arts, but at the same time this explanation fit more with the Merlin he knew than anything else he had considered. He could see Merlin feeling useless and craving a way to contribute when Camelot was inevitably attacked again. He just wished he had found something else other than magic.

            Then there was his dream, with the faceless sorcerer morphing into Merlin and his friend calling out to him from beneath a blanket of flames. Arthur was struck by the sudden and earthshattering realization that each person that was burned for sorcery was someone’s Merlin. Each sorcerer had a family and loved ones who had to watch as they burned. With the memory of Merlin’s screams still haunting his ears, Arthur could understand a lot better why so many family members of dead sorcerers swore revenge. He wasn’t sure he would do any differently.

            He was also struck with the understanding that he could never justify the burning of a sorcerer again. He knew without a doubt that if he were put in that position, he wouldn’t be able to kill a sorcerer just for being a sorcerer. Not after Merlin.

Arthur hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until a clatter in the next room woke him. He groggily lifted his head from Merlin’s pillow, light streaming in through the window telling him it was morning. Merlin’s blue neckerchief was mysteriously wrapped around his wrist.

“Where do you want this?” Gwaine’s gruff voice echoed back from the other side of the door. Gaius answered tersely.

“Just put it down by the door, I’ll have Merlin move it later.”

They didn’t know yet. Gaius and Gwaine had returned from their trip and they didn’t know yet that Merlin was gone. Arthur was hit by a sudden wave of cowardice, wanting desperately to be out of the room without having to walk by Gaius and Gwaine. He didn’t think he could face Gaius, who was like a father to Merlin. The older man would never forgive him. He wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself.

Arthur heard a knock on the far door and someone move to open it.

“Percy, Leon!” Gwaine greeted jovially. “Come to help us unpack, huh mates?”

There must have been something serious in their expressions, because Arthur could practically hear the smile slip off Gwaine’s face.

“I’ll take that as a no, then?”

“Gwaine, something’s happened.” Percival said, and Arthur could hear his heavy footsteps as he and Leon entered the room.

“What’s wrong?” Gaius questioned immediately, the physician in him taking over “Is anyone injured?”

“No, not physically.” Leon sighed before continuing “Morgana attacked three days ago. She brought a small force of Assassins with her and was able to make it into the throne room and hold us all at knife point. I thought we were goners for sure….”

“What stopped her?” Gaius asked with a growing dread.

“Merlin.” Percival answered, the one word explaining everything to the physician.

_He knew_ , Arthur thought, _Gaius knew about Merlin’s_ _magic_. Of course he had known about the magic, they did live together. Maybe he was even the one who taught him. The thought filled the king with a growing rage that disintegrated the moment he heard the sadness in the old man’s voice.

“Oh my poor boy.” Arthur heard the sound of a chair being drawn up and Gaius collapsing into it. “Is he dead?”

“Banished.” Percival corrected “He left right after it happened.”

“What?!?!” Gwaine practically screamed “Merlin’s been banished? That’s not possible! Arthur would never banish Merlin. Me: probably, Gwen: maybe, but never _Merlin_! Arthur can’t pick out his own socks without Merlin!”

“He used _magic_ , Gwaine” Leon said in a hard voice. “In front of the entire court. We are lucky he made it out of Camelot alive.” The knight’s voice was troubled with past memories of other sorcerers caught and forced to die. He had been eight years old when the great purge started, old enough to remember the screaming and the rows of dead waiting to be burned. He had always hated the executions of those with magic, usually making up an excuse not to be present. Especially the children. He hated when it was children. And he had liked Merlin, considered him a friend even. Leon was just thankful his loyalties to his king hadn’t been tested further.

“Shit.” Gwaine cursed. “Shit. Shit shit. _Shit_! What direction did he go?”

“You can’t follow him, Gwaine. He’s been banished.” Leon cautioned.

“Yes, well, banishments generally tend to be a short term kind of thing in this kingdom, don’t they? I’m not leaving him out there on his own.”

“Trust me, after what we saw in the throne room, Merlin can take care of himself” Percival said, with a bit of awe at Merlin’s raw power.

“Well I don’t care two flying flips if he’s a powerful sorcerer or a silly manservant.” Gwaine announced with conviction. “Merlin was the first friend I ever had and the first person to see me as something other than just another drunk. After what you’ve just said, I figure he needs a few friends around right now. Are you coming?”

“Merlin made us promise to stay and protect Arthur.” Percival explained while sounding like he very much wanted to break his word and join Gwaine on his hunt.

“He also said to tell you not to worry,” Leon added gently to Gaius, who had been very quiet ever since he’d learned Merlin’s fate.

“Well I made no such promises.” Gwaine muttered and stormed out the door, Percival following on his heels shortly after.

“Are you alright, Gaius?” Leon asked kindly.

“I’ve known this day might come from the moment he first set foot in this room. I thought I was prepared, but…….I just pray he’s safe.”

“So do we all, Gaius. So do we all.” And with that, Leon quietly left Gaius alone to grieve the loss of his ward.

On the other side of the door, Arthur rested his forehead against the wood and sighed. He hadn’t expected the pain of Merlin’s loss to be as evident in his knights as it was for him, but in reflection it wasn’t surprising. Merlin had been popular and well liked among all the knights. His sunny disposition and easy trust made him a target for pranks, but he always took it with a good humor and a smile. Gwaine’s speech about Merlin being his first friend held true for Arthur as well. Merlin had been the first one to see him as anything other than a spoiled prince, he had believed in the man Arthur _could_ be. He was secretly glad Gwaine was going after him, a part of him wishing he could go along too.

Something Gaius had said struck a chord and finally spurred Arthur to open the door and enter the physician’s chambers. Gaius was sitting in a chair looking absently into the fire, lost in his own thoughts. He nearly jumped out of his own skin when Arthur cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Sire, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized as he took in the older mans harried appearance. He felt the need to apologize for more and whispered a more dejectedly “ _I’m sorry_.”

“It’s alright. Can I help you with something?”

“I….” Arthur started, and under Gaius’s intense gaze and arched eyebrow his nerve almost broke. But Gaius was the only link to the truth he had now that Merlin was gone. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

Gaius stiffened but answered “Ask away, sire.”

“You knew about Merlin, about the magic.”

“That’s not a question, your majesty.” Gaius sighed.

“Do you know why he didn’t tell me?” Arthur asked, surprising himself with the question. The moment it was out of his mouth he realized the stupidity of it. Of course he knew why Merlin hadn’t told him, he was the king and magic was against the law. Yet the more he thought about it, the more the question bothered him. He trusted Merlin with everything. Why hadn’t Merlin trusted him?

“He wanted to, many times, but I was usually the one who convinced him not to.” Gaius admitted as Arthur’s eyes shot up to meet his, shocked by the honest confession.

“Why?”

“Arthur, your father was my dearest friend. He was a wise and good king, and I am proud to have served him. However, when it came to magic Uther could be blind and ruthless. I stood by his side and watched as he hunted down and slaughtered hundreds, many of whom had been my own friends and family. I have seen so many killed, I couldn’t bare it to see Merlin meet the same fate.”

“I am not my father.” Arthur said with a clenched jaw.

“No, you are not.” Gaius admonished “But you have spent most of your life trying to be like him. After Morgana’s betrayal, how could we have expected you to accept Merlin for who he is? And it appears I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

“ _Excuse me_?” Arthur said, rage building at the physicians accusation. The physicians own temper swelled as well.

“You banished him, Arthur! You sent away the one person who has sacrificed more for you than any other, who has saved your life more times than you will ever know! Just for being who he is!”

“Merlin _chose this_!” Arthur yelled, forgetting he was talking to a grieving old man and venting the feelings that had been churning inside him. “He betrayed the laws of Camelot and by extension _me_ by practicing magic. He lied to me, _his king_ , for _years_! You said you’d known this day could come _from the moment he walked in_. Does that mean Merlin was practicing magic even then? That he’s been practicing magic for close to _ten years_ without anyone knowing? How am I supposed to trust someone like that? How do we know he wasn’t just like all the others, biding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to seize more power for himself?”

Gaius had buried his face in his withered hands as Arthur shouted, trying to shield himself from the awful words. He shouldn’t have to be the one to do this, it should be Merlin defending himself, explaining to the king. But Merlin was god knew where, on his own, and there was little chance of him ever coming back.

Arthur had never seen Gaius look so old, and was immediately guilty for unleashing his frustrations on the physician. He felt even more so when Gaius lowered his hands to reveal tear streaked cheeks and overflowing eyes.

“Merlin was born with his magic.” Gaius explained in a small voice thick with tears. “His mother said his eyes glowed gold from the first time they opened and he could levitate his toys in the air by the time he was six months old. The first thing he saw after walking through the gates of Camelot for the first time was a sorcerer being executed. Yet despite this, when he arrived in this room he didn’t hesitate to use his magic to save my life.” Gaius smiled a little at the memory and pointed to the spot up the stairs “I was standing up there when the railing broke. I would have fallen to my death without Merlin’s quick thinking. Without even an incantation or spell he moved the bed to catch my fall. Truly powerful magic.”

“He didn’t chose it?” Arthur muttered, mostly to himself. This revelation changed everything, even if Arthur couldn’t exactly work out how. He hadn’t even known it was possible for a person to be born with magic. And Gaius’s story sounded so much like something _his_ Merlin would do, not the all-powerful sorcerer who had replaced him. A small part of him began to hope; maybe his manservant wasn’t totally gone.

“Why come to Camelot, of all the places he could go, why here?”

“Because I was here.” Gaius told the king. “It was getting harder and harder for Merlin to control his magic without being discovered, so his mother sent him to me- the only living magic user she knew. A long time ago during the purge she would help me smuggle sorcerers out of Camelot. One of which was Merlin’s father.”

Arthur had to close his eyes. So his father had hunted and tried to kill Merlin’s father. Had he seceded? He was about to ask more when Leon came charging through the door.

“Gaius, have you seen…..?” he trailed off, spotting Arthur, whom was obviously the person he’d been looking for. “Arthur, there you are!”

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, recognizing the apprehensive look on his most trusted knight’s face. Leon gulped and glanced once at Gaius before speaking.

“Sire, its Red, the horse Merlin took with him. She’s returned.”

A thrill of dread swept through Arthur. Merlin’s horse was back, but not Merlin? Gaius wrung his hands together with worry and said “That doesn’t really mean anything, Merlin probably sent her back so he wouldn’t have another mouth to feed.”

“I don’t think so, Gaius.” Leon said, and for the first time Arthur noticed how very pale he was. “Her coat is covered in blood.”


	3. Captured

**(The night before, on the outskirts of Camelot)**

 Merlin found it extremely strange to be able to perform his magic freely. All his life he’d dreamed of a day when he wouldn’t have to hide who and what he was. But now that day had come he would’ve given anything to go back in time and make sure the circumstances allowing it never happened. That way he could still be in Camelot and Arthur wouldn’t hate him.

 He sighed and added more wood to the fire with just a lazy wave of his hand. It was cold, and if the clouds were any indicator it would probably snow later in the night. Merlin wrapped Leon’s cloak around himself, extremely grateful for the knight’s kindness. He had cast a glamor over the cloak so that it now appeared to be a dark navy blue on the outside, but the inside was still Pendragon red. He had also left the gold dragon, unwilling to cover up the beautiful embroidery. The cloak made him feel like he had a small piece of Camelot still with him.

 Red grew tired of munching on grass and affectionately nuzzled Merlin’s ear. He smiled for the first time since leaving Camelot and petted her soft velvety nose.

“Sorry, I don’t have any carrots.” He murmured to the horse. He was grateful too for her company, silently thanking Percival’s thoughtfulness for choosing her to join him in exile. An older mare with a slightly greying nose, Red had a very docile disposition most of the time, but she could be fast when she wanted to be and sometimes would get into a playful mood. He and she had been on many adventures together over the years, and Merlin had even taken to sneaking her carrots off Arthur’s plate, which secured his place as her favorite over the stable lads.

Carrots-Arthur’s plate-Arthur. His thoughts always seemed to lead back to Arthur. Destiney had pretty much been shot to hell, his faith in the prophecy shattering. Merlin had no illusions left that the ban would ever be lifted or he would ever be welcomed back in Camelot, but he did hope to see Arthur again. Maybe see him and tell him how sorry he was, for everything.

Red’s ears perked up and her whole body went suddenly still, staring off into the darkness of the woods. Merlin didn’t notice, he was so lost in his own thoughts until an arrow whizzed through the air and imbedded its self in the tree next to him.

War cries filled the air and men rushed the warlock from all sides swinging swords and pelting arrows. Merlin didn’t waste any time, just threw himself onto Reds’ bare back and took off down the road.

The thunder of hooves told him his pursuers were also on horseback and chasing after him. Another arrow flew by, close enough to his head to nick one of his ears and he felt the blood from the cut drip down his neck. The hoof beats got closer, so he spurred Red on faster with his heels. Up ahead he saw the glint of metal in the moonlight just in time to throw up a hand and shout “ _Atrice!”_

The attackers that had been lying in wait for him were blasted backward and out of his way. He charged past them, utterly focused on navigating his escape through the dark woods. He didn’t notice how fast the rider behind him was gaining until a white hot fire broke out across his shoulder and chest. Somehow the rider had gotten in front of him while wielding a long sword. He’d slashed back at Merlin and sliced a long cut from his collarbone diagonally all the way down to his rib.

Merlin screamed out in pain and his magic reacted instinctually, blasting everyone close by away from him. He sagged forward and leaned heavily on Reds neck, feeling the blood spurt out of him in time with his heart beat. He was losing a lot of blood, he could feel it; his fingers and toes already starting to tingle. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and Merlin knew he was about to pass out.

“Surround him boys!” A gruff and hoarse voice called out. Merlin had enough strength to pick his head up just enough to see a gigantic man with a gnarly black beard and beady black eyes. Then he passed out, his last sensation that of him tumbling off of his horse.

 

* * *

 

The bearded man stood over the dark haired sorcerer, wincing with disgust as some of the blood that was pooling out of him oozed onto his leather boots.

“Sal, check his blood! Mort, stop the bleeding!” Beard face started ordering about “The bastards getting blood all over my nice new boots!”

Two men came forward, one carrying a small leather pouch and a vile, the other carrying a long iron rod. The man with the rod cupped the end in his hand and whispered a few words in the old religion. The poker turned bright red with heat. The man then took out a large knife and starting at the top, sliced a long cut right down the center of Merlin’s tunic, exposing the slashed skin beneath. He grinned like a maniac as he pressed the hot iron into Merlin’s oozing flesh right along the cut line, cauterizing the wound. The pain was enough to bring Merlin back from the edge of consciousness. He screamed out and squirmed under the rod.

“Gods, Mort.” The man named Sal cursed, shaking his head. “You ain’t got to enjoy that so much!”

“What can I say? I like my job.” Mort said with a wink, then stomped down hard on one of Merlin’s arms that had been trying to swat away the iron, pinning it to the ground.

Sal rolled his eyes and scooped up a bit of blood that was still pooled on Merlin’s chest. He picked out a small blue stone from the pouch and dropped it in the vile with the blood, swirling it around a few times then observing the reaction. Almost immediately as the stone hit the blood, it started to glow bright gold. The light grew brighter and brighter until it lit up the whole clearing and still didn’t stop. All the men turned to stare at the shining light until the vile suddenly burst and the light was extinguished.

“Edgar,…..I-I’ve never seen such a strong reaction!” Sal croaked in an awed voice to the bearded man, who peered down at Merlin thoughtfully. The warlock himself was still in far too much pain to concentrate on his magic or fight back, so his eyes wandered around aimlessly trying to find something to focus on.

“Better fetch the collar” Edgar said with a head nod to Mort, who went to one of the horses and came back with a thick silver collar that had dark runes etched into it. He quickly slipped the thing onto Merlin’s neck and it snapped shut, becoming a solid silver ring with no visible openings.

The second it closed Merlin screamed so loudly his voice couldn’t keep up and he ended in a horse choke, his face scrunched up in pain. When he finally opened his eyes to glare mincingly at Edgar, he could feel his eyes burning bright gold even though he wasn’t using magic. And the gold didn’t fade, like it normally did. It stayed shinning out from his eyes like torches in the darkness.

“Don’t be fooled boys, this one is more than he seems.” Edgar called, reaching down and pulling back Merlin’s eyelids with his thumb so as to better see the golden eyes. “Oh yes, he’ll fetch a nice price.”

“What is it?” Sal asked, a little spooked.

“I don’t know.” Edgar admitted. “But whatever it is, it sure as hell isn’t _human_.”

Merlin knew he should be insulted by that, but he was having a hard enough time fighting to keep his eyes open to care.

“Put him to sleep and tie him up on the back of your horse.” Edgar commanded to Mort, who grinned back at him as if to say ‘with pleasure’.

Merlin saw a fat, leather gloved fist coming down at his face and then he was consumed by darkness.


	4. Rescue Mission

**(The next day….)**

_“Sire, the mare Merlin took with him. She’s returned.”_

_A thrill of dread swept through Arthur. Gaius wrung his hands together with worry and said “That doesn’t really mean anything, Merlin probably sent her back so he wouldn’t have another mouth to feed.”_

_“I don’t think so, Gaius.” Leon said, and for the first time Arthur noticed how very pale he was. “Her coat is covered in blood.”_

Arthur brushed past Leon and charged out the door, not slowing down for anything. He sprinted to the stables, breathing heavily when he finally arrived. Percival and Gwaine were already there combing over a familiar brown horse for clues.

 Arthur blanched at the sight of the red/brown stained mane and coat, which had started to attract flies. For once, the horse seemed to be aptly named.

 “That’s a lot of blood.” He commented dryly, all the moisture in his throat having suddenly evaporated. Gwaine glared at him, as if he wanted to say something smart back, but was interrupted by Percival.

“It’s not the horse’s, she doesn’t appear to be harmed at all. This was hanging in her tail though.” He held out a broken arrow shaft for Gwaine and Arthur to inspect.

 “Are we thinking bandits?” Gwaine asked, brainstorming. Percival sighed an answer;

“It’s impossible to tell. It could have come from anywhere.”

Arthur continued to hold the arrow in his hands, running over it with his fingers. A million different scenario’s raced through his mind, each more outrageous and terrifying than the last. He was finally freed from his dark imaginings by Gwaine’s frustrated declaration.

“Sod this!” The shaggy haired knight swore, and made his way over to an already saddled horse. “I’m going after him!”

Gwaine hopped on a nearby horse who was already saddled and spurred it onward before anyone could stop him. Arthur watched him go, traveling the same path Merlin had taken, and his fingers wandered to touch the blue neckerchief still wound around his wrist. He glanced one more time at the blood soaked horse and came to a decision.

“Oh, _hell_. Merlin you _idiot_ , you better not be dead!” He muttered angrily before rounding on a nearby stable boy.

“You! Prepare my horse and supplies for at least a three day journey. Have them ready by the time I return.”

“You’re going after Merlin too?” Leon asked, stunned and Percival couldn’t keep the smile off his face when the king nodded.

 “It’s my fault he’s out there alone, I’ve got to go and at least make sure the idiot isn’t somewhere bleeding to death!” Arthur said with a hint of his old fondness for the other man peeking through and masking his worry.

 “And when you find him?”

The question stopped Arthur in his tracks. The truth was, he had no idea what to do with Merlin once they found him, his thoughts mostly hinging on _if_ they found him. He knew what he wanted to do; he wanted to fall down in front of his manservant and beg for forgiveness and he wanted Merlin to do the same. He wanted to cut the sorcerers’ head off for lying to him and he wanted to sweep the man up into a long hug and never let go. He wanted to drag him back to the castle and clap him in irons so that he could never leave and he wanted to banish the man even farther away, to some remote island from which he could never escape.

  Leon saw the confusion on Arthurs face and placed an understanding hand on his shoulder, a very bold move for the usually boundary conscious knight. It was Percival who rescued him from his thoughts however by stating;

 “We’re coming with you.”

 “We did promise Merlin we’d watch your back, after all” Leon grinned mischievously (a very odd look for Leon).

  “And someone should probably be there to watch Gwaine’s back too” The big knight added.

 Arthur nodded gratefully to his two knights. “What about Mordred?” he asked, curious about the one missing member of their usual team.

 “I haven’t seen him in days.” Leon admitted with a frown.

 “Well, I guess he’ll have to sit this one out. We ride in fifteen minutes.”

 Both knights gave the king a respectful head bob bow before going to prepare their horses and supplies.

 Arthur rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time in his hurry and almost literally ran into his wife.

  “Arthur, what’s happening? I just saw Gwaine riding out of the city?” Gwen asked, searching his face for answers. Arthur took her hands in his, soaking in her beautiful features.

 “It’s Merlin.” He explained. “I’m going after him.”

“After him?” she asked, her breathing stopping with dread. Arthur wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t exactly blame her for assuming the worst.

“His horse came back without him, and there was blood on her. I _have_ to make sure he’s alright.”

 Gwen stared up at him for a moment, her big brown eyes welling up with unshed tears before she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

 “Arthur Pendragon, it is times like this that I utterly and truly love you.” She whispered, just loud enough for him hear. Arthurs face flushed with pleasure at the words and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight to his body and sinking his nose into her hair. Her confidence in his decision gave him strength and assurance he hadn’t known he was craving. After what felt like far too short a time they broke apart, and Arthur made another decision.

 “Guinevere, I need you to do something for me.” He told her seriously and was heartened by her enthusiastic nod. He slipped his golden ring off his finger and curled her willowy ones around it.

 ‘Arthur…what…..?” She looked up at him with confusion and fear until he explained further.

“While I’m gone, I want you to start working to repeal the ban on magic.” He said, ignoring her shocked gasp. “It won’t be easy, especially convincing the rest of the council, but if anyone is capable of it, you are.”

 She smiled sweetly at him and he knew come hell or high water she would fight to repeal the ban in his absence. Gwen stood on her tip-toes and pressed her lips sensually into the corner of his mouth.

“That was for you….” She said, her hands cupping his cheeks and guiding his head down so it was within reach. She then place a much lighter kiss on his forehead with a motherly tenderness. “…and that was for Merlin.” She grinned, softly stroking his cheek with her thumb. “Please be careful.”

Arthur snorted and wrinkled his nose at her “I’m always careful!”

Gwen rolled her eyes and Arthur stole one last kiss from her before hurrying on his way.

He had a warlock to save.

 

****


	5. Caged

Merlin woke up in darkness with a splitting headache and a pulsing line of pain across his chest. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did he realized it was only dark because it was once again night and the sky was hidden by dark clouds. He was in a large cage with metal bars that burned when he touched him they were so cold. Goosebumps ran along his skin as he realize the air was frigid enough to see his breath if there had been light, and he wore nothing but his breeches, vaguely remembering someone cutting off his shirt to get to his wound. Whoever had taken him had cruelly also taken his shoes and socks as well as his neckerchief.

“There’s a blanket in the corner” A crackling, female voice called out from close by to his right. Merlin looked in the direction he thought the voice had come from, but couldn’t see anything in the darkness. Movement was painful, and he tried not to jostle his wound as he felt around clumsily on the wooden floor of the cage. His hands finally came in contact with a coarse wool blanket, which he hastily wrapped around his shoulders.

 “Thanks” He called out gratefully and got a humorless chuckle in return.

 “Save your gratitude, Lord Emrys.” The voice said bitterly “You should devote yourself purely to escaping this place, for it holds nothing but pain and suffering for our kind.”

 Merlin raised his eyebrows at the use of his other name.

  “You know who I am? Are you a druid?”

 The mysterious voice chuckled again, but this time with true amusement.

 “No my lord, I am not.”

Merlin was about to question her further, but there was movement and the appearance of a faraway light coming closer.

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” A high pitched voice called from Merlin’s other side. There was the sound of shuffling and scurrying from all around him making Merlin realize that he was surrounded by similar cages which were similarly occupied.

As the light approached Merlin could see it was torches carried by two men, one older with long dirty blond hair and beady eyes and a second large man with a meaty face and hair cut close to his scalp. As they passed each cage the creatures within shied away and hid in the shadows.

When the light passed the cage directly to his right, there was a screech of rage and the rattle of talons shaking the bars. The older man jumped back with fright while his companion swung his torch around to illuminate the occupant of the cage.

The creature revealed in the flickering firelight had the body of a bird of prey, but was roughly the size of a horse. She had the head and breasts of an older woman with grey-streaked dark red hair that matched her foliage. Her face was sharp with a large beak-like nose and golden eyes that were narrowed on the two men with furry.

“I shall rip the flesh from your bones, mortal fools!” The bird-woman hissed venomously with the same voice Merlin had heard before.

“Oi, quite down you!” The bigger man sneered, thrusting the flames cruelly at the caged creature and making her back away. He turned mockingly to his companion. “You are such a coward, Sal”

The man named Sal made an irritated face but didn’t say anything, instead moving on to peer into Merlin’s cage.

“Well, well, look who’s awake.” Sal looked at Merlin cautiously, as if expecting him to attack the bars like his neighbor had.

“That’s amazing,” He remarked “You’d almost think it was human!”

“If it wasn’t for the eyes…..”The larger man said with a shiver of disgust.

Merlin looked around the cage, suddenly scared he’d missed the mysterious creature they’d locked him in with, but there was nothing. The two men were peering directly at him and for the first time he noticed the little prickling of heat he felt in his eyes that usually happened when he did magic. Only this time the feeling wasn’t fading like it normally did, it was just staying constant.

“What are you?” Sal asked “you might as well tell us, we’re going to find out anyway.”

“I-I’m human!” Merlin said, a bit offended. The big man laughed heartlessly.

“If you’re a human, then I’m the bloody king of Camelot! Ha ha ha!”

Merlin had had quite enough of this. He was cold, he was hungry, and he felt like every part of him was in pain. But most of all, Merlin did not like being put in a cage! He summoned forth his magic, preparing to blast open the cage door.

“Chwyth Agor- _Ah_!” He had barely started the words of the spell when his throat felt like it had been set on fire and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. White hot currents of agony ripped through his body stemming out from his neck. It rendered him helpless and moaning on the floor, desperately clutching at his throat. His fingers found a cold silver collar as the source of his pain when he regained awareness of his surroundings. He also realized that the two men were laughing at him, enjoying watching him writhe in torment.

“Look at his face!” The big one jeered. “They’re always so shocked, I love it!”

“Come on Mort, we should probably go tell Edgar it’s awake.” Sal said and the two men left Merlin with his head reeling.

He stared down at his hands in shock, a prickle of dread edging into the back of his mind. He couldn’t use his magic? That was going to make escaping a lot harder. Harder; but not impossible.

The cold air brushed over his bare skin and reminded him that he’d let the blanket drop on accident. Wrapping himself up in it completely, he tried to get some sleep, knowing that he would need his full strength in the near future.

Like always, his thoughts strayed to Arthur and Camelot. He’d been so worried about how Arthur might faire without him that he hadn’t spared any thought on how _he_ would do without the protection of Arthur and Camelot. He’d always thought Arthur wouldn’t last a week without him, he seemed to have to save the prat’s life so much. But the joke was on him because here he was on his own and he hadn’t even lasted three days without getting himself into trouble. Trouble he would have to get himself out of, because this time there was no hope of anyone coming to his rescue. No one was going to miss him, no one was going to even notice something had happened to him, except maybe Red. The thought made him want to just give up and let his capturers do with him as they willed.

But even then, after everything that had happened, a little voice in the back of his head refused to let him abandon Arthur. What if Morgana attacked again while he was sitting in this stupid cage? What if one of a million other deaths that seemed to have their sights set on his king finally found their target? Merlin would never forgive himself if something happened to Arthur and he wasn’t there to stop it. So he resolved that he would get out of his prison.

No matter what it cost him.

 

* * *

 

 

 Arthur and the knights rode for a good hour until they finally caught up with Gwaine. He hadn’t exactly been happy to see them, especially when Arthur told him their goal was to find Merlin because like Gwen, he had automatically assumed the worst.

“What, do you expect me to help you hunt him down like an animal? Just so you can drag him back to Camelot and make a show of lighting him on fire!”

 “No!” Arthur screamed. He knew he deserved it after his words in the throne room, but he was getting really tired of people assuming he wanted nothing more than to murder his closest friend. “If Merlin does not wish to return to Camelot with us, then I will not require him to do so. I just……I just want to make sure he’s alright. That’s _all,_ Gwaine.”

 “Well if Merlin’s not coming back, then neither am I” Gwaine declared “ _I’m_ not going to leave him alone out there!” He said gesturing to the vast world that held untold numbers of dangers and traps for a trusting soul like Merlin. Part of Arthur was hurt that Gwaine wished to leave his service, but it was only a small part. The bigger part of him was grateful that Merlin would have someone reliable with him. He didn’t even consider that Merlin might actually want to come back to Camelot, not after the awful things he’d said and the lingering prejudice that lived there.

The accusation in the knight’s voice was not lost on Arthur either, and it made him clench his jaw and turn away with shame. Yes, he had sent Merlin out alone under the assumption that the magic user could take care of himself, despite that being a direct contradiction to the Merlin he knew. And now something could have happened to him, and it was all Arthur’s fault.

“Do you know why I signed up to be one of your knights?” Gwaine asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before he continued “I swore my allegiance to you, my king, because I knew swearing allegiance to you was pretty much the same thing as swearing my allegiance to Merlin. He follows you with such devotion, and with such conviction that you can do no wrong, that until today I’ve never questioned if I made the right decision. He’s your most loyal servant, Arthur!”

Arthur couldn’t say anything in response. He deserved everything Gwaine was saying, because deep down he knew it was true. Merlin _was_ his most loyal servant, but he was also more. That’s why the lies had hurt him so much. But the more he thought about it, it couldn’t have all been a lie. Merlin trying to cheer him up when he was sad, offering advice, or their playful banter couldn’t have been a lie. Merlin might have had ulterior motives, but the actual actions hadn’t been a lie, he knew that in his heart.

Gwaine sighed and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, seeing the distress on his face.

“You owe him one hell of an apology, you know” He remarked. Arthur nodded.

“We have to find him first.”

“Yeah...does anyone have any idea how we do that?” Leon asked.

“He would go toward Ealdor, wouldn’t he? Shouldn’t we head there first?” Percival suggested.

“No.” Gwaine said firmly “He was just exposed as a sorcerer before the whole court of Camelot, he would get as far from Ealdor as he could. Its common knowledge that’s where he grew up, and if anyone meant to follow him that would be their first stop. He would want to protect his village and not put them in danger.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. Merlin wasn’t a _complete_ idiot, when he wanted to be, the man could be downright clever.

“So, how do we find him?”

“We go in the opposite direction of Ealdor, and we keep going until we find bandits.” Gwaine said, pointing the way he’d already been headed. “Then we question them, and anyone else we meet and ask them if they’ve seen him.”

“Purposefully searching out dangerous groups of bandits with just the four of us….”Leon commented dryly out of the corner of his mouth. “This is going to end well.”


	6. New Friends

 When Merlin woke again, it was daylight and he was able to properly assess his surroundings. He was in a medium sized cage with a wooden floor that was on top of a wheeled cart. All around him were cages of all different sizes set up similarly with a range of different magical creatures inside. To his left, a tiny cage hung from a pole and he could see the little winged figure of a sidhe fairy curled up in a ball on the floor. Directly in front of him was an gigantic cage with a full grown wyvern, covered in raw looking scars slashed across its hide. When he looked to the right, he jumped when his eyes met the glowing gold ones of the bird-woman.

 “Good morning.” Merlin said to her, attempting to be pleasant while swallowing his nervousness. She continued to stare at him with unblinking eyes. Merlin was extremely uncomfortable under her gaze, but attempted to ignore it and try and find a way out.

He searched around the floor of his cage, shifting through the thin layer of straw on the floor for anything that might help. His fingers brushed over something hard, and he pulled up what he first thought to be a small yellowish stick. He looked at it closer, and immediately dropped it with a yelp. It wasn’t a stick, but the remains of a human finger with the flesh long torn way but a few of the tendons still attaching the joints.

 With a groan of disgust, he got an idea of what to do. Trying really hard not to think about it, Merlin grasped the bone and broke it in half, creating one side that was jagged and sharp. He then moved over to the lock on the cage door and eased the end of the bone into the key hole, wriggling it around inside so as to trip the internal latch.

“What are you doing, lord Emrys?” The bird-woman asked curiously. Merlin glanced over at her and saw that she was peering at him with her head tilted at a ninety degree angle that was impossible for a human neck.

“I’m getting out of here.” He informed her, his teeth gritted together with determination. She sighed and gave him a pitying look.

“Many have tried. None have succeeded.”

The lock clicked. Merlin smiled triumphantly.

“You were saying?” He quipped, riding high on the thrill of success.

The bird-woman’s mouth actually dropped open in shock and her eyes widened dramatically as she stated at him. But Merlin didn’t wait for her to recover. He gently pushed the cage door open and jumped to the ground as quietly as he could. Then, after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he took off running through the rows of cages, not quite sure where he was going. He passed Griffins and trolls and many other creatures he didn’t recognize, all looking up as he ran past until finally he caught a glimpse of the edge of the forest in the distance. It was just a short run across an empty field of grass. Merlin ran as fast as he could, convinced he could find cover in the safety of the trees, but he never made it.

A lasso flew through the air and landed around his neck without Merlin ever being any the wiser. When the man holding the other end of the rope pulled on it sharply, the noose around Merlin’s neck tightened and jerked him backward, just meters away from his goal. Merlin’s hands once again flew to his neck as he struggled to keep his windpipe open whilst being dragged backward through the dirt.

The pressure on his neck finally released as he came to a stop at the foot of the large man from the night before, the one called Mort. He grinned maliciously at Merlin.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Merlin tried to answer with something flippant, but all that came out was a strangled cough. But Mort wasn’t finished with him.

“You’ll have to be taught a lesson for that.” He said and Merlin felt a spike of dread because Mort looked like he’d just found out it was his birthday. The big man yanked the rope upward, forcing Merlin to follow after him like he was on a leash. He led Merlin to a large wooden post with a ring on the top, which he tied the rope to. Merlin had to stand on the tips of his toes so that he wasn’t hanging from the noose, all his weight on his neck. He was so distracted by making sure he could breathe that he hardly fought as Mort tied his hands together behind him around the post.

“There you go….now we can have some fun!” Mort said. He pulled out an iron poker that he kept on his belt like a sword. Suddenly memories of pain from when he’d been captured flashed through Merlin’s head and he remembered that poker burning his wound shut.

Mort cupped the end of the poker in his hands and whisper a spell familiar to Merlin. When he brought his hands away, the poker glowed red hot with little spirals of smoke drifting off it. Merlin’s eyes got big with fear as Mort walked toward him and his bare chest with the poker.

“This will teach you not to try and run away”

* * *

 

 

The harpy was still staring after the warlock with shock. She couldn’t believe he’d done it. She’d been there for over a year and never had anyone managed to make it out of the cages. Maybe he really was as great as the prophecies said?

It filled her with a feeling she hadn’t had in a long time, to think of the scrawny young man escaping from this hell hole, of _someone_ finally getting out. It filled her with hope.

But then, even from her cage halfway across the camp, she heard the screaming and she knew he hadn’t made it far.

* * *

 

Arthur and his knights found bandits not even a full hour later, or rather the bandits found them. (Arthur was trying not to think what that meant about the state of his kingdom).

Their horses immediately bolted, but Arthur wasn’t too worried about them, trusting that they could find their own way home as the bandits surrounded them on all sides. There were only seven of them, and normally if wouldn’t even have been close to a fair fight, Arthur’s and the knight’s skills far surpassing their opponents, but none of them had noticed the man with the cross bow up in the trees until it was too late.

 “Arthur!” Leon screamed desperately, horror sinking into his bones as he saw the flash of metal glint in the sunlight, drawing his eyes up to the arrow that was trained straight at the king’s head.

Arthur turned to look were Leon was looking and saw the bandit pull the trigger, the arrow hurtling toward him. None of the other knights had noticed but Leon, being too busy decimating the other bandits. Leon didn’t have time to do anything. He didn’t have time to move or help or even get there to throw himself in front of the king as a human shield. He would have done it too, without hesitation. But he did have time for one single thought that surprised even him.

_Oh gods, I’ve failed Merlin._

The boy had asked him to protect the king in his absence, a job he suddenly understood was Merlin’s above all the rest. He had entrusted him with the safety of the man who meant more to him than anything, and he was about to watch said man’s life get snuffed out by common bandits arrow, of all things.

Except right before the arrow was about to hit, it suddenly stopped and hovered in front of Arthur’s face, just as the knife in the throne room had. Arthur stared at the sharp point, his eyes going cross-eyed, before it fell harmlessly to the ground. There was a yelp and the bandit who had fired it was suddenly falling toward the ground head first. He hit with a hard thump and didn’t get back up.

Arthur’s eyes raked the tree line franticly. The arrow had stopped, just like the knife had, by magic. He knew of only one sorcerer who would be stupid enough to save his life with magic and his heart leapt into his throat, beating madly as he thought one word over and over again.

_Merlin._

There! There was the slightest shift of movement, like someone slinking off into the shadows.

Arthur tried not to think about why Merlin was running away from him. Part of him wanted to let him. If he didn’t want to see Arthur, then Arthur didn’t want to see him. But he had to know. He had to know that the figure sprinting away from him really was Merlin and he really was okay, not lying dead in a ditch somewhere because Arthur had been an idiot. And Gwaine was right, he had to tell him he was sorry. After that he would let Merlin run away to his heart’s content.

“Wait!” Arthur called, and took off after him. He hurtled stumps and fallen trees in a dead sprint, trying to keep up with the figure in the distance. Realizing he was being pursued, the cloaked figure abandoned stealth and was running as fast as he could.

But Arthur was faster.

It didn’t take long at all for Arthur to catch up and was close enough to tackle the cloaked figure from behind.

He knew immediately that the man beneath him was not Merlin. He was much too broad and the squeak of alarm was all wrong. Flipping the man over, Arthur found himself kneeling on top of a young man with big, alarmed eyes. He did seem vaguely familiar though.

“Who are you?” He demanded.

“Um,” The young man said, unsure. “Gilli?”

“You saved my life” Arthur accused, slowly putting the pieces together “With magic. Why?” The idea that there was not one but _two_ sorcerers in the world who didn’t want to kill him, Arthur found highly unlikely. By this point the rest of the knights had finally caught up with them and had their swords pointed at the young man Arthur was currently restraining with his body.

“I…eh...” Gilli gulped nervously, eyeing all the swords that were pointed at his throat. “I promised a friend.”

Arthur immediately relaxed his hold on him, leaning back and regarding him thoughtfully.

“Merlin?” He asked sharply. “He asked you to protect me?”

Gilli was silent and kept glancing around from knight to knight, almost as if he was trying to figure out which to take on first. Arthur was getting impatient.

“Answer me!” he ordered.

“What answer won’t get my head cut off?” Gilli asked just as sharply right back at him. Yes, Arthur could defiantly see why this man and Merlin were friends. They had the same tendency to be flippant in dangerous situations. And surprisingly similar ears…..maybe that was a magic thing?

“I’m not going to cut off your head, you have my word” Arthur told him sincerely. He stood up and offered a hand down to the young sorcerer. Gili just stared at him, his eyes narrowed with distrust.

“Burn me then?”

Arthur bit the inside of his lip. The man had just saved his life and yet he thought Arthur would immediately turn around and take his without a thought. He was starting to see the way the magical community saw him, not as undeservedly as he would like.

“I give you my solemn vow I will not punish you for your magic, especially after you’ve just saved my life with it. I wish only to ask some questions you appear to have the answers to.”

“What do you want?” Gilli asked curiously.

“I need to find my --” Arthur stopped mid-sentence. He’d been about to say find my manservant, but then he remembered that Merlin didn’t work for him anymore. “- Merlin.” He finished lamely.

And then he went red in the face as he realized he’d just said, out loud, the sentence ‘ _I need to find my Merlin_.’ Leon and Percival remained professional, Gods bless them, but Gwaine raised his eyebrows mockingly.

“Do you know where he is?” Arthur trudged on, determined not to be embarrassed.

Gilli was looking at him strangely, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing and seeing. It took him a minute, but then he shook his head and answered.

“Last time I saw him was two days ago in a tavern just south of the border.”

“When he asked you to come protect me?” Arthur asked. Gilli reluctantly nodded. “Even though you thought I’d kill you if you were caught? Why did you agree?” He genuinely wanted to know. Gilli shrugged.

“Merlin’s my friend, and well…. I owe him my honor.” He said after a moment’s contemplation.

That threw Arthur for a loop. He’d never considered sorcerers to be capable of being   honorable, but that had also been before Merlin. Now here was a second one, a sorcerer, who like Merlin defied every expectation he had for their kind. More and more he was becoming surer that lifting the ban was the right decision.

“Two day’s” Gwaine muttered sullenly. “At least that’s a start.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. It wasn’t much, but it _was_ a start. He turned toward Gilli.

“Thank you for saving my life, but your protection is no longer required. I’m releasing you from whatever promise you made Merlin.”

“What?” Gilli said startled, and popped to his feet as Arthur and the rest of the knights prepared to head out once more. “No. I mean, I’m sorry your majesty, but you can’t do that. _Merlin’s_ the one I promised. That means I’m going with you.”

“No.” Arthur said firmly, but not unkindly. He may have made a lot of headway in regards to trusting sorcerers, but Gilli was still a stranger and there was still a small voice in the back of his head that said he couldn’t be trusted.

“I could help you find him?” Gilli offered.

“I’m one of the best trackers in the kingdom. I think I’ll manage.” Arthur said.

“Bet I can find him faster.” Gilli said, an unspoken glint of a challenge in his eyes and Arthur finally understood what he was offering.

“You could find him with magic?”

Gilli’s only reply was a confident smirk.

“How?” Leon asked. Arthur noted that he was bravely curious about magic, just as much in the dark about how the stuff actually worked as he was.

“I’ll need something of his, something personal that will lead us to him.”

Arthur’s fingers instantly found the blue scarf on his wrist. Reluctantly he untied it and handed it to Gilli.

“Use this” He said. He could feel the knight’s eyes on him, and he knew they had recognized the cloth. Judging by the look on Gilli’s face, he knew what it was too. But he didn’t say anything, and Arthur was grateful.

Gilli held the neckerchief in his hand and whispered some words in a foreign language, his eyes lighting up bright gold for the briefest of seconds. He held the cloth by the corner and they watched as a sudden wind that only effected the cloth picked it up until the opposite corner to the one in Gili’s hand was constantly pointing south.

“He’s that way.” Gili said confidently.

Arthur’s eyes followed the edge of the cloth. He half expected Merlin to come stumbling at them from that direction, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

 _Hold on, Merlin_. He projected mentally _. I’m coming. Just hold on_.


	7. Hold On

  _Hold on, Merlin_ …..Arthur’s voice whispered to him as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. _I’m coming…..just hold on._

 But Arthur wasn’t coming. No one would come. He was banished, and if he didn’t find a way to get himself out of there; he was never going to see anyone he loved ever again.

 Rough hands shoved him back into his cage and he yelped in pain as the fresh burns on his arms and chest hit the floor. With agonizingly slow progress he inched himself into a comfortable position where almost none of his burns had the pressure of his own weight bearing down on them and ended up staring up at the roof of the cage. Outside, he could see a light snow starting to fall and realized he was still without a shirt or shoes. But that was okay, he welcomed the cold. Anything to get away from the heat, from the hot, from the burning.

 “How far did you get, lord Emrys?” The bird-woman asked, no sympathy or softening in her words. He would almost bet she wasn’t capable of something so human.

 ‘Almost to the tree-line.” He responded wistfully.

“I have never known any to make it that far.” She remarked like it was of no importance, like she was talking about weather. Merlin snorted and gave a sad little laugh.

“My mother always did say I was special.”

He lay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cold air on his now scorched skin.

“Will you try again, Lord Emrys?” She asked, breaking him out of his reprieve.

 “Yes.” He snapped back, fire and determination having not diminished an ounce under the torture he’d received. “And my names Merlin, by the way. Not Emrys.”

He was in a foul mood and he knew it. Being burned purposely with a red hot poker over and over again tended to do that to a person. But he didn’t care. He was trapped in a cage like an animal, he couldn’t use his magic, gods knew how far from Camelot, and Arthur hated his guts…sometimes his life _really_ sucked.

 “I am Celaneno.”

Merlin tipped his head backward slightly so that he could see the bird-woman in the next cage. She’d said everything in such a hollow, emotionless voice that he’d thought her incapable of sympathizing, the hawk like stare she aimed at him more likely to mean she was waiting for him to die so she could eat him rather than seeking out any type of connection. But maybe telling him her name was her way of offering comfort and support. He gave her a tiny smile from the corner of his lips.

“Hi Celaneno.” He said, testing her name out.

 Her foliage ruffled testily and she picked up her big talons to waddle around so that her back was to him. He frowned. She could be just about as moody as Arthur!

 Arthur.

 Was he safe? Had he found another manservant already? Did he miss him? Merlin sure missed Arthur. He missed his bravado and his confidence and even his arrogance, all of which he himself felt suddenly lacking. He had been so hurt by Merlin’s betrayal, Merlin had seen it in his eyes that day. Who was going to be there to reassure Arthur that it wasn’t his fault if it wasn’t Merlin? He hoped Gwen would. She would be there for Arthur, this Merlin knew. But he hoped that Arthur would let her in and allow her to help him work through his feelings. Knowing Arthur, he was probably bottling everything up and making things all the worse for himself.

He had to get out of that bloody cage. He had to get that damn collar off too. He had to do those things first, then he’d go to Camelot and check on Arthur. He wouldn’t let him know he was there, but he’d go just to see him, to see if he was alright. Him and the others. It’s what Arthur would do if he were stuck in a cage. The King would never give up.

 With renewed determination Merlin sat up and started examining his cage again. Going up was out of the question, the roof above was solid metal, as were the bars. But the floor was made of wood. Getting an idea, Merlin ran his hands over each board on the floor until he found what he was looking for- a plank of wood with one of the nails not hammered all the way down.

Merlin tore a strip of wool off of his blanket, using his teeth to rip it, then began to coat the strip with saliva to strengthen it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Celaneno had turned around and was watching him once again.

 He slipped the edge of the wool underneath part of the head of the nail, using his fingernails to dig out more room in the wood. He got nasty splinters jammed up between his fingernails and the skin, blood trickling from his fingertips as evidence, but still he was undeterred. He just kept at it until his fingers were shaking so much he had to stop and rest. The cold was starting to turn the tips of them blue, which mixed with the red blood and made his fingers look really awful.

 “You’re a harpy, aren’t you?” Merlin asked Celaneno as he worked, hoping he wasn’t being rude. He vaguely remembered reading something about harpies in one of Gaius’s books.

 “I am.” She answered coldly.

“How did they catch you? I mean, you have wings, why didn’t you just fly away?”

Celaneno’s jaw clenched and her eyes shifted around menacingly as if searching out her captors.

 “I was sleeping when they came across me” She said bitterly “When I woke, I fought, but am not as young as I once was.” Her sharp eyes darted back to him “And how did they catch you, oh powerful one?”

 Merlin went slightly red in the face as he answered. “I guess they just caught me off-guard. It all happened so fast….”

“And where was your brother? He that destiny has deemed to protect you?”

Merlin stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then it occurred to him that if she knew about the prophecies, then she could only be talking about Arthur. The idea of Arthur being the one to protect him seemed ludicrous.

 “He hate’s me.” Merlin whispered, suddenly fighting back a wave of emotion. “He never wants to see me again.”

“A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole.”

 Merlin snorted with amused. Celaneno narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized “You just sound a lot like an old friend of mine.”

Merlin sighed and began picking at the nail again. He had considered calling Killigarrah for help, but for one thing his captors were ruthless and appeared to be collectors of magical creatures. The last thing he wanted was to lead Killigarrah into a trap just as his father once had. Also, he didn’t even know if he could with the collar restricting his magic. He was in no hurry to repeat the pain that coursed through his body when he tried to preform magic.

 In the cage across from them, the wyvern lifted its head and hissed menacingly. Merlin stopped his digging and followed its gaze to see three men approaching them. The first was the bearded man he vaguely remembered from the night he’d been captured and he was flanked by the two men from before; Sal and Mort. As Mort drew closer, Merlin’s eyes were drawn to the iron poker at his side and he couldn’t help a little shutter of fear and felt himself automatically fall back to the rear of the cage, putting as much space between them as he could.

As the men walked past Celaneno’s cage, the harpy lunged for them with an ear-piercing shriek, her sharp talons grasping out of the bars looking for flesh to sink into. The older man, Sal, jump back and Mort flinched away from the hawk-woman, but the third man didn’t even glance at her as he continued walking until he stopped in front of Merlin’s cage.

 The bearded man looked down at Merlin with a calculating look that made him feel naked under the appraising gaze. Sal looked nervous and Mort was smirking triumphantly at Merlin’s battered form.

“What manner of creature are you?” The bearded man asked bluntly.

“You caught me, I’m really a _farm mule_ in disguise.” Merlin said, with as much petulance as he could muster. “What does it look like? I’m human!”

 “No, you’re really not.” The man named Sal said. “We tested your blood, and it showed incredible amounts of magic, enough to rival that of even the most magical of creatures. And then there’s your eyes.”

 “What about my eyes?” Merlin asked nervously, but part of him already knew. He remembered what Sal and Mort had said the last time they came to his cage and even as he thought about it he could feel the small burning warmth always just under his eyelids.

 “That collar does much more than just prevent you from using your magic,” The bearded man explained “It also reveals your true nature. If I were to put that collar on a human sorcerer, it would do absolutely nothing. But if I were to put it on the neck of a magical creature, like a lamia, who uses the form of a human as a means of deception……then the lamia would no longer be able to keep it’s form and would turn into the giant snake monster it really is. You on the other hand, haven’t changed shape. But your true nature _has_ been revealed.”

 The bearded man leaned in close to the bars and Merlin felt himself once again unconsciously falling back. “So I’ll ask you again; _what are you_?”

 Merlin gulped audibly and was about to answer with another denial when Celanenos’ sharp voice beat him to it.

 “He is the howl of the wind and bite of the flame. He is the strength of the earth and flow of the water. He is nature at is most glorious and terrible. He is magic it’s self trapped in human form, a god of the old religion and master of life and death. He is the protector and brother of the Once and future king. _He is Lord Emrys_.”

Merlin felt all the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The three men on the other side of the bars seemed equally spooked by the harpy’s prophetic like speech, each standing stock still in shock. Then the spell was broken as the bearded man broke into a deep belly laugh. Mort visibly relaxed at his boss’s mirth, but Sal still eyed Merlin nervously.

 “You want me to believe this twig of a boy is the mythical _Emrys_?” The Bearded man laughed. “The boy is powerful, I’ll give you that, and because of it he’ll fetch a high price at auction, but Emrys is nothing more than a Druid children’s tale. He’s not real!”

“He stands before you, _Edgar of Amata_ and you would do well to show the _Lord of Magic_ due respect!” Celaneno hissed with outrage. The bearded man, Edgar, let his laugh fade to a soft chuckle before he swaggered up to the harpy’s cage, an insulting smirk on his face.

 “Don’t worry, you feathered old crone, he won’t be your problem for very much longer. In fact, nothing will be your problem for very much longer.”

 For the first time, Merlin saw something akin to fear flash across the harpy’s eyes. Edgar saw it and his smirk progressed into a full creepy smile.

 “That’s right. You have a buyer. Seems like the new King of Amata has taken an interest. He’ll be here later tonight.”

Celaneno lunged through the bars with another furious screech, but Edgar didn’t flinch away. He coolly stood his ground as her razor sharp talons sliced through the air inches from the tip of his nose.

“Men.” He called once over his shoulder before striding off away from them in the direction he’d come, his men following obediently behind him. Merlin waited a few seconds after they were completely out of sight to finally look at the harpy in the next cage.

 She was standing completely still with her eyes closed and her jaw clenched up like she was in pain.

“Celaneno?” Merlin called out kindly “Are you alright.”

She nodded slowly after a moment’s pause, but didn’t open her eyes and look at him.

 “So, being sold to the new King of Amata? I’m guessing that that’s not a good thing?”

 “The rulers of Amata like to make a show to their people of how powerful they are by presenting the number of magical creatures they’ve killed.” Celaneno explained. “When the last king came to power he presented his people with the Head of a Unicorn and liver of griffin. Throughout his time as ruler he had various creatures on display to show his people he had dominion over the magical world, creatures as powerful as a dragon.”

“ _Sarrum._ ” Merlin breathed, putting the pieces together and remembering the horrible man that had imprisoned Aithusia and tried to kill Arthur.

“Yes. And if his successor is half as ruthless as he was and he has purchased me from Edgar, then I am unlikely to survive the night.”

 “Well then I better get back to work on getting us out of here.” Merlin gritted his teeth and worked on the nail some more.

“Us, my lord?” the harpy asked surprised.

 “Yes, _Us._ ” Merlin said in a tone that dared her to challenge him.

 She watched him carefully with her hawk eyes before they softened sadly.

 “You cannot save me, my lord.” She said sharply “And you should not waist your energy trying. I am no mortal with human morals. I am what you call a monster.”

The word brought Merlin up short, and he paused in his efforts. For a long time he was quite. He remembered Arthur calling him a monster, could feel the burning behind his eyes, and looked around at the other creatures also imprisoned in the cages around him.

“Do you know what a harpy eats, Lord Emrys?” Celaneno asked, sensing his reservation. Merlin shook his head minutely before she answered “We eat human young. Your children. Do not feel bad about leaving me or any other of us here. _Save yourself_.”

Merlin stared off into space for a minute, lost in his own thoughts. Then something in him snapped.

“No.” He said standing up and pulling on the piece of cloth with all his strength. Finally, the wood gave and the nail was ripped out leaving a small hole in the floor.

“ ** _We_** are getting out of here.” He said, turning his glowing gaze on her “ _No one_ deserves to be in a place like this.”

Celaneno watched him as he wove the strip of cloth through the wood to try and rip up a bigger hole and she thought to herself how right the prophecies were. A mirror to his counterpart, Lord Emrys was a force of light that could not be diminished, even when things seemed darkest.

 

* * *

 

 Several hours later, Merlin had worked out a hole in the floor about the size of his head. He was working on widening it by jumping on the edge with his whole weight, ignoring the burning that came each time his frozen toes struck the wood. Finally the wood gave way with a loud crack, leaving an opening big enough for him to squeeze through.

The splintered edges of the wood raked across his bare skin, breaking it in some places, as he pushed himself down and out to freedom.

 “You must go my lord,” Celaneno begged as he made his way over to her cage “Please, while you still have the chance!”

 “Oh, shut up.” He muttered, looking around the ground until he found the bone he had used earlier to pick the lock on his own cage. He quickly got to work using the same technique to open hers.

 “Just run, you stupid boy! You haven’t the time for this!” She shrieked.

 “Stop distracting me and I’ll move faster.” Merlin said, enjoying the banter.

Across from them, the wyvern hissed a warning and the Sidhe said in her high pitch voice “They’re coming! They’re coming! Hurry Emrys!”

“Almost there….” Merlin muttered, his tongue stuck out to the side and bitten between his teeth as he concentrated. Then… _click_.

 The lock sprung open. Merlin tossed it away and flung open the door. Celaneno spread her gigantic wings out to their full length before launching herself into the air. She soared high into the sky and Merlin watched her, filled with an inexplicable joy of seeing the magical creature finally free.

 But they were interrupted as the sounds of men shouting and running toward them brought Merlin back to the present. He started running in the opposite direction of the approaching men, once again weaving through the rows of cages.

He tripped on his own feet and the breath was knock out of him as he hit the ground hard.

 “There you are.” A horribly familiar voice said gleefully. Merlin rolled over onto his back and saw Mort striding toward him at a fast pace. He was done for; there was no way he could out run the other man.

 Then before he could understand what was happening, giant talons seized his upper arms and hoisted him up into the air. The ground and a furious Mort quickly shrinking as he was whisked away into the sky. Merlin felt like laughing out loud with joy as he and Celaneno soared through the air and over the tree tops.

 Finally they were free.

Then out of seemingly nowhere, Merlin’s world was jolted as Celaneno cried out in pain and unconsciously banked to the right. In the chaos a quick view of an arrow sticking out of her wing caught his eye. He was wrapped up in a flurry of feathers as together they plummeted down toward the ground, wind whipping and tearing at both of them.

They hit the trees and the top branches attempted to catch them, but only succeeded in grabbing and tearing at them as gravity tugged them toward the ground. Merlin’s fall was mostly broken by Celaneno’s soft foliage. She had taken the brunt of the impact, and he could see her left wing twisted into an unnatural angle. Her right still had a large arrow poking through it.

 Merlin tugged at her feathers, trying to coax her onto her talons, but he could tell by the harpy’s expression that she had already given up. Before he could even consider making a run for it on foot, they were surrounded by men pointing cross-bows and swords at them.

 “Lord Emrys.” Celaneno called out, her voice warmer than he had ever heard it.

 “We can still make it out of this!” He warned her optimistically, which earned him a soft chuckle from the bird woman.

“No, my lord, we cannot. But I would like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to spread my wings and fly one last time before I left this life. My soul shall be indebted to you for that.”

“Celaneno…..” He warned, not liking her defeated attitude at all. But before he could say more, Edgar waltzed up to them. He was flanked as usual by Mort and Sal, but also by three more men; one of which wore a cape made of what looked like dragons scales and had a golden band around his head signifying royalty.

 “You weren’t joking.” The crowned man said. “This one certainly has some fight left in her.” But Celaneno looked nothing the sort at that moment, her face squashed up in pain and her breathing heavy. Merlin glared at the king, feeling protective of his feathered friend. His heated look did not go unnoticed by the king.

 “Who is the boy?” He asked Edgar.

“Not who, Sire, but what.” Edgar corrected and Merlin clenched his jaw at the insult. “And we are not sure, other than it is a very powerful magical creature.”

“Oh?” The King said, interested. “And how much would it cost me for him as well? His head would look wonderful on a pike outside my castle. Do you think the eyes would still glow even if the head was not attached?”

Merlin shuddered involuntarily at the picture the horrible man painted. Meanwhile Edgar regarded the question seriously, but ended up shrugging. It was like they were discussing the weather, rather than how best to display Merlin’s dismembered body parts.

 “I couldn’t say, Sire. But I’m reluctant to part with him until I figure out exactly what manner of creature I’ve got. Wouldn’t want to sell only to find out he was worth double latter, eh?”

“You’re as shrewd a merchant as ever, Edgar.” The King laughed. Then he turned back to Celaneno. “Very well then, might as well take what I came for.”

Several of Edgars’ men moved at a signal from Edgar to restrain Celaneno, pinning her crippled wings to the forest floor and binding her strong talons together. Merlin tried to fight them off, pushing one of the men away, before Mort grabbed him from behind and wrestled him to the ground. Several days without eating and severe blood loss had made Merlin rather weak, and Mort had considerable size on him. He shoved Merlin face-first into the dirt then dug his knee into Merlin’s back to hold him there.

The new king of Amata snapped his fingers and the two men who had accompanied him both disappeared, only to reappear a moment later to offer the king a variety of different weapons. Merlin watched as one of the men bowed slightly and held out a large knife in a very similar way to how he himself had often presented Arthur his sword. The king took the weapon, examining its edges and twirling it around with great show so that it glinted in the light.

“This will do.” He said with a shrug and dismissed his men with a wave of his hands. Then he turned and stalked toward the immobilized Celaneno. The harpy did not struggle or fight as the man raised the knife high above her heaving chest.

 “No!” Merlin screamed, and his magic unconsciously fought to rectify the horrifying scene before him, sending white hot pain shooting through his body as the magic slammed into the barrier created by the collar. The pain was so bad he almost passed out. He stayed focused long enough to see that Celaneno’s golden eyes were not looking at the king or even the knife hovering over her, instead she looked straight at him and for the first time he saw her smile.

Then the knife plunged into her chest and with a startled cry her body gave a couple of jerks, then was still. Merlin closed his eyes as the king and his minions hacked at her chest. The King reached down and pulled out her heart, his hands dripping with still warm blood. Tears rolled down Merlin’s cheeks and onto the dirt floor.

“Oh yes.” The king appraised the organ with delight. “My kingdom shall greatly approve of my mighty feat. For all great kings must slay at least one monster.”

 Merlin felt like he was going to be sick.

“Congratulations, Sire” Edgar said smoothly, clapping the king on the back. “It was good doing business with you. I hope you’ll come see us again?”

“Of course, of course!” The king assure him. He glanced over at Merlin. “You’ll have to let me know when you solve the mystery of that one. Like I said, his head would look lovely on a pike.”

He placed Celaneno’s heart in an ornate wooden box presented by one of his men, then the three of them were escorted off and out of sight.

“Gather all the feathers before you dispose of the body.” Edgar commanded his men. “There are plenty of fools who will pay a high price for a harpy feather. And as for you…” He said crouching down by Merlin’s head. “You almost cost me a small fortune with that little escape stunt. You’d think you would have learned after last time” He shook his head and turned to the man who still had Merlin pinned to the ground.

“Mort, make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Mort grinned sadistically, a truly twisted method of accomplishing his objective occurring to him.

“It would be my pleasure…….”


	8. Found

Arthur and his three knights followed Gilli for the rest of the day before they made camp for the night. In the morning they were all up and following the directions of the magic neckerchief as soon as the sun permitted. While the previous day had been quite, the night had allowed some underlining comradery to develop between the knights and the sorcerer. Arthur still kept a reserved distance, but Gwaine had no problem chatting with their newest companion.

“What did you mean when you said you owed Merlin your honor?” Gwaine asked Gilli, curious about anything that had to do with his friend’s secret double life. Gilli glanced nervously back at Arthur before cryptically answering.

“Well…um, he stopped me from doing something kind of stupid a while back….” Another worried look in the king’s direction and Arthur had had enough.

“I said I was not going to do anything! I am a man of my word!” he snapped, annoyed. “You may speak freely in my presence.”

Gilli gave the king another surprised and calculating look, before he shrugged and admitted “Merlin stopped me from killing King Uther a few years back, we’ve been friends ever since.”

Arthur stopped and stared opened mouthed at the sorcerer.

 “Wait a minute” Leon said with recognition “You’re that boy who competed in the tournament and ended up in the final round with the king! You were trying to kill him?”

“Yep.” Gilli said dismissively “I used magic to get as far as I did in the tournament.”

“Merlin protected my father?” Arthur asked softly, awed by the idea. He could barely wrap his head around the concept that Merlin would being willing to protect him, even though he had done little to nothing to deserve it. But the thought that Merlin had been willing to risk his life protecting his father, who most certainly would have killed him the second he found out about the warlock’s identity, puzzled him greatly. “Why would he do that?” He asked Gilli.

“Merlin believes that magic isn’t meant to be used for personal vengeance, it’s supposed to be used to help people and to make everyone’s life better. He showed me the truth in that.”

They continued on in silence for a time while Arthur mulled over the sorcerer’s words. He had barely begun to grasp at the idea that maybe not all sorcerers were evil, Merlin and now Gilli had been proof of that. But to think that the purpose of magic itself was to do _good_ was a harder concept for him to swallow. After all, how many times had he seen magic used to preform horrendous acts? How many innocent souls had he seen corrupted by the power magic granted them? But on the other hand, he had seen the same thing with other rulers of kingdoms. Maybe it wasn’t the magic, but power in general that corrupted people?

Oblivious to Arthur’s internal epiphanies, the group came to a stop as Gilli halted and examined a nearby tree. He said a few words in the old tongue and waved his hand over the bark. As he did, glowing letters were revealed, also in the old tongue.

“What does it say?” Leon asked, fascinated despite himself. Surprising everyone, it wasn’t Gilli who answered the question first, but Percival:

“It’s a warning, isn’t it? Magic users beware?”

 Gili nodded confirmation “The druids put them up to warn sorcerers to stay away from certain areas that are particularly hostile to magic. The woods surrounding Camelot is riddled with them.”

 “Dangerous for sorcerers? Is it safe for you to continue?” Gwaine asked the sorcerer with concern. Gilli shrugged dismissively.

“Probably not.” He said, even as he moved past the warning and further into the forest, still following the fluttering neckerchief. Arthur felt a little bubble of respect well up for the young sorcerer. Yet he felt the need to make it clear that the man had a choice.

“You needn’t go any further. You are under no obligation to put your life at risk.”

Gilli sighed “Begging your pardon sire, but I’m a sorcerer. My life is always at risk.”

Arthur frowned. It was hard for him to comprehend what it was like to live a life constantly being hunted at every turn. Sure, enemies of Camelot often tried to kill him, but he had guards and an army to defend him. The poor sorcerer before him had no one. He couldn’t help but look at Gilli’s carefree attitude about his own safety and be reminded of Merlin, who also had little regard for his own wellbeing. Was the persecution of magic responsible for that? If what Gaius had said was true, then Merlin had spent his entire life with the threat of execution hanging over his head. He imagined a young Merlin growing up in Ealdor, learning to lie to survive. Arthur’s mind went over all the times Merlin had put his life on the line to protect him with a new appreciation, and a growing shame.

 “There’s something up ahead.” Percival announced, dragging Arthur away from his thoughts. He crept up to the front of the group and signaled for the others to follow silently behind him. They crept up to the edge of a large clearing with rows upon rows of cages, some large and some small, containing all manner of magical beasts. The one closest to them held an elderly Griffin, its feathers molted and shedding everywhere inside the cage. It lifted up its head as they approached and gave a strangled ‘ _squawk’,_ which was choked out by a silver collar around its neck.

“I’ve never seen a Griffin so close before.” Percival whispered in awe, spell bound by the creatures’ magnificent size and mismatched features.

“And you’d better hope you never do again.” Arthur told him, remembering the Griffin that had attacked Camelot all those years ago. They’d have all been lost if it weren’t for Lancelot. “We’re lucky the thing is restrained.” The Griffin’s beak snapped in Arthur’s direction and stared him down accusingly, as if it had understood his words perfectly and taken great offense.

But Gilli was shaking his head, his eyes glued to the silver collar around the Griffin’s neck that seemed a little too tight to be comfortable.

“It’s _Barbaric_.” He hissed, disgusted. “How could anyone create such a horrible thing…..” He continued to shake his head sadly at the collar until Leon asked,

“What do you mean?”

“Those markings on the collar,” Gilli explained, pointing out some scratched in runes on the silver surface. “Those are marks of the old religion. The collar is enchanted with a binding spell that prevents the wearer from using any type of magic. For a sorcerer like me, wearing something like that wouldn’t be a big deal, I just wouldn’t be able to use my magic. But that collar is specifically modified to contain a creature of magic who, unlike a human sorcerer, are themselves _made_ of magic. In short that collar is designed to hurt, to be excruciatingly painful. It’s a _torture device_.”

The Griffin lowered its head to the cage floor and looked away from them all with what could only be described as a defeated gaze. Arthur was struck by how very different this creature was to the fearsome Griffin that had almost killed him all those years ago.

“And you think Merlin is somewhere in there?” Gwaine asked. As answer Gilli held up the neckerchief which waved in a non-existent wind in the direction of the field of cages.

“Split up, two groups.” Arthur ordered, motioning for Leon, Percival and Gili to split off to the right while he and Gwaine entered the rows of cages to the left. “Meet back here in half an hour.”

As they waded through the rows of monsters, the creatures all picked up their heads and watched them with glowing gold eyes. The hair on the back of Arthur’s neck stood on end as they passed each one. Many were creatures like the griffin whose kind he had fought or killed. A troll, a unicorn, a wyvern. All mighty creatures caged up and defenseless.

Suddenly Gwaine stopped walking, frozen in place. Arthur turned to look where he was looking and saw what would haunt until the day he died. Merlin was lying unconscious on his back in a small metal cage. He had a coarse wool blanket draped over his legs, but otherwise he was completely exposed to the fridge air; his fingers and nose blue and starting to show signs of frostbite. His chest was a mess of dried blood and open wounds; many of which were burns with bubbled flesh and the beginnings of infection. His ribs were back and blue with bruises, and fresh blood was trickling down his forehead from a cut above his eye. A silver collar like the one Gili pointed out before, the one he had said was a torture device, was secured tightly around Merlin’s neck.

“Merlin? Merlin!” Gwaine frantically hissed, rushing to the unconscious man. Merlin groaned when he heard his name being called but didn’t fully wake-up. Gwaine searched for an uninjured part of his friend before settling for lightly shaking his arm, all the while calling out his name.

“Gwaine?” Merlin moaned in confusion.

“Yeah mate, it’s me. Merlin you’ve got to get up. We came to get you out of here!”

“What?” He mumbled confused, especially by who ‘we’ was. Merlin opened his eyes and Gwaine took an unconscious step back in surprise. It took Merlin a minute to figure out what had startled the fearless knight; then he remembered the collar revealed his true nature through his eyes. Another sharp inhale of breath to the left drew his gaze over and suddenly he was looking straight at…..

Arthur.

A million thoughts swam through Merlin’s head all at once. Arthur was there, and Merlin would be lying if he didn’t admit he was glad to see him. He looked well enough, or rather better than Merlin did at that very moment. However the fool had waltzed himself into a field full of every magical creature imaginable, most of which wouldn’t think twice about ripping his head off. And then there was Edgar and his men, gods alone knew what they would do to the King of Camelot if they found him sneaking around their camp or precious merchandise. The idea of a monster like Mort being set loose on Arthur was exactly the kind of thing Merlin couldn’t let happen.

But despite how happy Merlin was to see Arthur, the king was looking at him with something similar to disgust on his face that brought everything that had happened in the past week back to the forefront with vivid clarity. Merlin realized what he must look like to Arthur, with his golden eyes glowing back at him from Merlin’s face. They were the tell-tale proof of how Merlin had betrayed his king, how he’d lied to him, and he shut his eyes quickly out of shame.

What Merlin didn’t realize was that Arthur had barely even noticed Merlin’s glowing eyes. His gaze had been preoccupied by the better view of Merlin’s wounds he was provided when Merlin sat up. It was disgusting, that someone had done this to him. Arthur was no stranger to wounds created with torture, and he knew that whoever had done this had _liked_ it. Merlin had not been tortured for information, but for enjoyment. And it was all Arthur’s fault, because he had sent him away. Arthur was supposed to protect him and he had failed.

“You can’t be here!” Merlin hissed at them, a little more venomously than he intended “They’ll be coming back soon.”

“Good.” Arthur said, rage clouding his judgment. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to meet the bastards who had hurt his manservant and introduce them to the sharp edge of his blade.

“We’ve got to get this door open.” Gwaine muttered, shaking the cage door with all his might, as if his strength alone might be enough to pull it off its hinges. “Will you be able to run when we do?” he asked Merlin.

The warlock turned in his direction, but kept his eyes firmly shut. Even so, he managed to look a little sheepish as he answered. “Ah…actually no. I don’t think I can run.”

Arthur was about to ask when Merlin tenderly pulled the blanket off his legs.

“Oh gods.” Gwaine cursed and Arthur’s world spun on end as though he might faint.

Both Merlin’s legs were twisted at odd angles, obviously broken below the knees. His right foot was at an odd angle to where it should be, but it was the left that captured attention. The bone of his left shin had broken through the skin and pants material and was exposed to the open air. His pants leg was stained dark with sticky maroon blood and the wound was starting to fester, draining yellowish puss. There should have been more blood, but Merlin had applied a tourniquet to his own leg just below the knee, cutting off the flow to the injured limb.

The insatiable need to punch something seized Arthur and made his blood boil. He mentally vowed to use every resource he had -his army, his sword, or even his fists if needed- to enact justice. Even with his glowing eyes projecting pure magic and power, Merlin was still _Merlin_. And in Arthur’s mind, Merlin would always be the young servant who drank poison to save his life. He was the purest of heart, and was the last person to deserve such pain.

“One of them took a mace to my legs after my last escape attempt.” Merlin explained, unable to see the horrified looks on Gwaine and Arthur’s faces as his eyes were still closed. “I guess they though it would dissuade me from running again.”

“Merlin….” Gwaine whispered, his heart breaking for his friends pain. He was cut off from saying more as the wyvern behind them make a chirping sound. Merlin’s head snapped up.

“They’re coming!” He warned “You have to get out of here, now!”

“No.” Arthur ordered regally, a deadly calm in his voice as he readied his sword. Gwaine continued to hack and slash at the lock with his own blade, chipping the sharp edge. Merlin tried to reason with the king.

“Arthur, please, you’re out numbered. You have to go.”

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur snapped angrily. It reminded Merlin of the conversation he’d had with Celaneno not long ago, when he had refused to leave her behind.

A rage was boiling through the king that he was barely able to contain. He was angry at himself, he was angry at Merlin, but mostly he was angry at the men who had decided to break his brother’s legs and put him in a cage like an animal.

He gave a signal to Gwaine to stop attacking the lock and take cover. The two warriors crouched down and waited for their prey. It was Sal and Mort who walked casually into their line of sight, unaware of the king and knight lying in wait. Merlin shrank back automatically from the approaching men, an action that didn’t slip Arthur’s notice. He narrowed his eyes hatefully at them.

“Well good morning to you too” Mort sneered at Merlin, a sadistic smile painted on his meaty features. “How are your legs?”

Merlin said nothing and stubbornly kept his eyes shut.

“I think it’s mad we killed its friend.” Sal taunted, much braver now that Celaneno wasn’t there to lash out at him. “You going to cry some more over the dead birdy? Huh? Are you?” But Merlin refused to rise to the bait.

“I’ll get it to talk” Mort bragged to Sal, pulling the familiar poker from out of his belt. “Watch this.” He whispered the words to light the end of the poker on fire, the metal glowing bright orange, and poked the hot end through the cage bars at Merlin.

The fiery metal never reached the warlock, as Mort suddenly became preoccupied by the silver tip of Arthur’s sword protruding from his chest. For a moment, nobody moved. Even Arthur seemed shocked by the sudden turn of events, having never decided to attack but acting on instinct after seeing Merlin in danger. The quiet was broken as Mort made a gurgling sound and blood bubbled out of his mouth. He fell to the ground, dead.

Sal screamed loudly for help and tried to run, Gwaine quickly following after him, but the damage was already done. Men were suddenly descending on their position from what seemed like all directions.

“Arthur, run!” Merlin pleaded with his king once again. Arthur ignored him and crouched down in a defensive fighting position in front of the cage. The men attacking were not lowly bandits without any skill with their weapons, but they were still no match for Arthur. He cut them down one after another and could hear Gwaine doing the same from not far away. But Merlin had been right, they were vastly outnumbered.

Faced with fighting at least ten men at once, Arthur couldn’t help but miss one of the attacks from behind as he blocked the down swing from a sword. The blade slashed his arm and the king cried out in pain.

“Arthur!” Merlin screamed and his magic automatically jumped to the king’s defense with everything it had. His magic slammed into the barrier created by the collar and left Merlin writhing on the cage floor in pure agony.

“Merlin!” Arthur called out, having seen Merlin go down out of the corner of his eye and being unable to do anything to help as the sorcerer screamed and thrashed about from the pain. While his attention was captured on Merlin, one of his opponents was able to knock his sword from his hand and suddenly multiple sword tips were pointed at his throat. Arthur raised his hand slowly, knowing he was beaten. He nodded to Gwaine, who reluctantly dropped his sword and also raised his hands.

“Grab them.” Sal ordered some of the men after checking Mort for a pulse and finding none “Edgar will know what to do with them.” The men started to drag Arthur and Gwaine away from Merlin’s cage.

“Wait! Stop! You have to help him!” Arthur called out, struggling against his captors to maintain sight of Merlin. The warlock had stopped moving, presumably passing out from the torment. His cries were ignored.

“Merlin!” He screamed. But Merlin remained unmoving and unconscious to his king’s call.

 


	9. The Price

Gwaine and Arthur were lugged through the cages, the creatures they passed hissing and shrieking at the men who held them. They were brought to a camp of tents in a clearing and were dismayed to see the others already there sitting on the ground with their hands bound behind their backs. Gilli was out cold and Percival had blood dripping into his eyes from a blow to the head. When they got closer, Leon shot the king an apologetic smile that let him know they were for the most part unharmed.

Arthur and Gwaine were forced to kneel before the biggest tent. A large man with a full bristly beard and piercing eyes came out, clearly the man in charge.

 “What’s this?” He demanded. Sal stepped forward.

 “More Intruders, Edgar!” He explained, gesturing angrily at Arthur “That one killed Mort!”

Edgar stroked his beard calmly and peered at Arthur, unfazed by the news of Morts death.

 “You look familiar, boy.” He said, and Arthur bristled at being addressed in such a disrespectful tone. “Who are you?”

 Arthur shook off the two men who held him down and forced his way to his feet. He stood at his full height and glared at Edgar as he announced with complete regality:

 “I am King Arthur of Camelot.”

 There was a murmur around the camp as the men all peered at the young King curiously. His deeds and adventures had become rather famous not only in Camelot but throughout the kingdoms.

 “King of Camelot?” Edgar’s eyes grew wide with surprise, then narrowed in recognition “I remember now, you’re Uther’s son. We met once when you were very young. Your father was a great customer of mine”

 “And just what is your business?” Arthur demanded, bristling at the idea that his father associated with the man in front of him. A wide smile slid across the bearded man’s face as he proudly answered;

 “Why, the capture and selling of magical creatures, of course.”

 Arthur was revolted by the thought of his father doing business with the bearded man. He knew perfectly well what Uther Pendragon would have done with any magical creatures he purchased, and he knew his father could be very single minded when it came to magic, but he was desperate to maintain even the ghost of his father as a semi-honorable man.

  “My father would never have done business with a _slaver_.” He spat at Edgar, who seemed genuinely shocked by the accusation.

 “Why sire! I’m surprised you think so little of me? I am no slaver.”

 “No?” Gwaine challenged from where he was still held down by no less than four men. “What about the man you even now have caged and tortured like an animal!” He gestured back in the direction they’d been taken from. Leon and Percival’s heads perked up, correctly interpreting his words to mean they had found Merlin.

 “Ah, I see” Edgar nodded, and turned to Gwaine “You are mistaken, sir knight. The creature you saw is no human man, but a magical being hiding behind the guise of man. Its appearance is meant to deceive.”

 “You bastard!” Gwaine yelled and lunged, dragging all the men who held him a step forward. It was only a look from Arthur that held him back.

 “How much do you want for him?” Arthur asked, barely maintaining his regal aloofness. They were outnumbered easily ten to one, and he knew they were never going to be able to break Merlin out. The only hope they had of all getting out alive was if he relented and played Edgars game. In truth, the king was more than willing to pay whatever the cost to save Merlin; to make up for his mistake.

Edgar’s scrutinized Arthur with a long look before he answered.

 “I’m sorry Your Majesty, but I’m afraid I’m not quite willing to sell yet….”

“I’ll give you a thousand pieces of gold for him.” Arthur interrupted. Edgar’s eyebrows raised high in the air.

 “I don’t think so.” Edgar said coolly, noticing on the way Arthur’s jaw clinched slightly tighter at being denied. The king was very good at hiding his emotions, but Edgars’ trained eye could see the signs that his connection with the creature was personal.

“Ten thousand pieces of gold!” Arthur spat with his chin raised high in a challenge. The bearded merchant leaned in close to the blond man, enjoying watching the king’s face slowly break in frustration as he said only one word.

“No.”

Arthur’s fists clinched at his sides and he looked like he was barely keeping himself from viciously attacking. When he spoke, it was through clinched teeth.

“Fine. Name your price and you shall have it. A title? Lands? What do you want?!?”

Edgar let loose a great belly laugh as he turned to his men. It only served to push Arthur closer to the edge.

“Do you hear that, men? The fancy king of Camelot thinks he can buy me off! Well I’ve news for you, _your highness_ , you have nothing I would want!” Then men around the clearing laughed and cheered with Edgar, while Arthur felt his desperation grow. This was the only chance they had to get Merlin out of there, to get him to safety. It was his fault that Merlin had been captured, he was the one who had sent the idiot away, and he would do anything to make it right. The images of Merlin’s legs twisted and broken, of his chest scorched and burnt, of his ribs black and blue from heavy blows _haunted_ Arthur and physical hurt him as if they had been assaults to his own person. He could not stand to have Merlin imprisoned for a single moment more. So without even thinking about it, he did the unthinkable.

“I will give you anything! My very _kingdom_ should you want it!” Arthur screamed desperately. He fell to his knees before the man and begged. “Please. Let him go.”

All the laugher and smiles were quickly wiped from the surrounding men’s faces as even they sensed the significance of the sight before them. The mighty king of Camelot was on his knees begging, willing to give up everything he owned, everything he held dear, just to stop the suffering of another; a creature of magic no less. His own knights stared at Arthur slack-jawed and in disbelief. It had to be a trick, Arthur must have had a plan up his sleeve because there was no way in heaven or hell he would be willing to give up his people, not for anything. They wanted to believe it was a hoax, but Arthur wore an expression so pure with desperation and sincerity that it was impossible to doubt him. Leon and Percival glanced at each other, they had seen only one other look like that; Merlin on the day he was banished.

Edgar considered Arthur with a deserved amount of awe before he spoke, shock having drained all the color from his face.

“There is a druid prophecy that tells of the two most power beings who will ever or have ever existed. One is high King over man who rules humanity by the helm of his sword, the other is the master of nature its self who commands elements of the world with a wave of his hand. They say that they are completely dependent on one another, as much as Man is dependent on nature and nature being a part of man. They also say that together these two are unstoppable, each the others strength in times of darkness. To lay harm to one is to wound the other, and may the gods have mercy on the souls those who defy them!”

Edgar gulped and looked away. The harpy’s words haunted him. When he looked back there was pure terror in his eyes and his voice came out in but a whisper.

“I had thought them nothing more than stories to keep hope alive in hearts of the druids. Even when I witnessed his power I never thought the boy might be him, that that scrawny welch might be the exalted Lord Emrys. And I knew your father, young Pendragon; I never suspected you could be the Once and Future King. But I see now. I see what you are.”

“King Arthur I will return your warlock to you- but for a price…..”

Arthur nodded vigorously, hope fluttering in his gut.

“Anything. Name your price!”

“I ask only that you allow myself and my men to leave this place with our lives and selves intact.”

“Edgar!” Sal shouted from behind them, outraged at the very idea “You can’t be serious!”

“Silence, you fool!” Edgar spat at him, his eyes wild with terror and furry. “Can’t you see I am bartering for our very souls? If the prophecies hold true, then there will be no safe haven in all the lands for those who anger Emrys and the Once and Future King!” He turned back to Arthur, who had tentatively risen to his feet.

“I need your word, my king, bound in your very honor. I need you to swear on the very life you plead for that we can leave without retribution from you or your other half.”

“You tortured him for days!” Arthur spat, suddenly angry “You expect us to just forgive you for all you have done!?!”

“Yes. That is the price if you want to return home with him today. Swear on his life, young king!”

Arthur sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth and didn’t break his scorching glare at the man. He hated the idea of the monster getting away with the atrocities he’d committed against Merlin, but a greater part of him was fighting the building nagging that demanded he see Merlin safe immediately. He relented to it.

“I, Arthur Pendragon, swear on the life of my manservant that neither of us will come after you or your people once you leave this place, _on the added condition_ that you leave Albion herself and never return.” Arthur made his vow with his head held high, once again the regal monarch his knights were accustomed to seeing. Edgar nodded, not thrilled about the king’s added stipulation but willing to comply. He was more than aware that after the things he had done to lord Emrys, escaping with his life was prize enough.

“Go! Pack your things” Edgar ordered. All of his men stood were they were, shocked beyond belief and most of them waiting for Edgar to reveal that he’d been joking. But then Edger screamed “GO!” and they scurried around like roaches, quickly dismantling the tents and readying their horses.

Arthur and Edgars eyes never left each other despite the chaos that swirled around them. They stood like that for nearly half an hour until Sal walked up behind Edgar and murmured in his ear that they were ready to leave.

Edgar drew his sword and thrust it into the ground, then pulled out a large ring of keys and draped them over the hilt.

“Farwell, Once and Future King.” He said with a small bow of respect. He then briskly walked over and mounted a ready horse with Sal. They spurred them onward and didn’t look back as they sped away into the forest.

Arthur barely waited for them to be out of sight before he lunged for the sword and got to work cutting the ropes from his hands. When he was done he seized the keys and drew the sword from the ground, turning quickly to free Gwaine who was closest. The moment the knight was free he moved to charge after the escaping Edgar and company, but Arthur held him back.

“You may have promised to let them go” He snarled at the king “But I promised no such thing!”

“Merlin needs us right now” Arthur reminded him and shoved the sword into his hands “Free the others!” Then without waiting to see if Gwaine obeyed, he took off in the direction of Merlin’s cage clutching the set of keys like it was a lifeline.

Merlin was still unconscious when he arrived.

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed, fumbling with the ring of keys and trying to find the right one. “Merlin, wake up!” The warlock moaned pitifully in response to his voice but didn’t open his eyes.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Arthur, he found the right key and the lock sprang open. He tossed it away and stormed into the cage, careful not to jostle any of Merlin’s injuries as he knelt at the warlock’s side. He looked absolutely awful, in addition to the dried blood that was matted in his hair, his nose and lips were blue from cold and his skin alarmingly pale. He wasn’t shivering and Arthur knew enough about hypothermia to know that wasn’t a good sign. He had heard stories of men who fell asleep from the cold and never woke up again. Arthur cradled Merlin’s head between his hands and lightly slapped at his cheeks, determined to rouse him. Slivers of gold finally peaked out from beneath his eyelids, though they were still fuzzy and disoriented from pain. He managed a crooked smile when he saw Arthur.

“Hey prat.” He greeted with a croaky voice. Arthur let out a half sob, half cry of relief and muttered back in a fond tone.

“Hey idiot.”

 “Merlin!” A shocked voice interrupted them. Gwaine had led the others to them and was currently climbing into the cage after Arthur. Gili, who was the one who had called out, was staring with dismay at Merlin’s poor condition with Leon and Percival.

“Gilli? What are _you_ doing here?” Merlin demanded. His eyes flicked over to Arthur quickly in a way that perfectly revealed his thoughts. _How on earth did he get away with lying for so long?_ Arthur thought bitterly. He wanted to smack the warlock for thinking the worst of him, but couldn’t find an uninjured inch.

“Protecting Arthur, just like you asked.” Gilli declared. He sounded a little outraged that Merlin would have forgotten his mission, seeing as he was the one who assigned him to it.

Arthur dismissed the pleasantries and asked Gilli curtly “Can you heal him?”

“I only know one healing spell.” Gili responded apologetically and Merlin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was even more flabbergasted by Arthur’s lack of reaction. The king just nodded and motioned for Gili to come closer.

“Well, one’s better than nothing.” He said.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Merlin screeched throwing his hands out to stop Gili’s approach and leaning back into Arthur’s chest. He started ticking off things on his fingers as he listed them. “One- you’re not coming near me with that spell, I’m burnt enough as it is….” He warned Gilli, then turned to Arthur “and second of all why are you not freaking out? Did you really just _ask_ him to do magic?”

“We can talk about it later.” Arthur said dismissively. “Right now we need to get you out of here.”

Merlin’s chest and arms were still a mess of open burns that were already starting to show signs of infection but it was his legs, his left in particular that was going to be the trouble. The bone of his shin was sticking up out of the skin like a tooth while trickles of fresh blood oozed out at a steady rate despite the tourniquet. If they tried to move him even an inch he would be in an unbelievable amount of pain.

“We’ll have to splint his legs, once that’s done I can carry him” Percival offered through the bars. He disappeared and then reappeared just as quickly with a set of straight sticks to use as a splint which he handed to Gwaine.

“This is going to hurt” Gwaine warned the warlock, who nodded. All of them understood what had to be done, though Arthur had gone a bit paler at the thought. Leon took off his belt and folded it a couple before passing it though the bar.

“Bite down on this.” He told Merlin, who wasted no time in doing so.

Gwaine grasped Merlin’s left foot firmly by the ankle. With as quick a movement as he could manage, the knight pulled with all his strength until the bone was pulled back beneath the skin and near enough to its original place. Merlin screamed through the belt that gagged him, his whole body jerking and twitching involuntarily from the pain. His flailing hand somehow found Arthurs, which he squeezed with all his might as way of distraction.

“I’m sorry mate.” Gwaine murmured as Merlin’s head flopped backward and his eyes rolled back in his head. He secured the splint tightly and used his own cloak as a bandage to stop the bleeding before turning to repeat the process with the other leg.

Merlin lurched violently and whimpered pitifully in reaction. Arthur wrapped his arms around him and held him steady as Gwaine applied the other splint. The king had seen many of his men wounded, but it had never been Merlin. Not like this. Every cry of pain, every sob, ate at his soul like acid. He desperately wished he had not giving his word to let Edgar live. If his hands hadn’t been full with a squirming Merlin, they probably would have held his sword in one and the bridle of a horse in the other as he chased the men down.

Finally at long last, Merlin’s legs were sufficiently bandaged enough so that he could be moved. The warlock seemed exhausted and closed to passing out with a thin shine of sweat apparent on his forehead despite the cold. Gwaine and Arthur helped to inch him out of the cage and into Percival’s waiting arms. The big knight was very careful not to jostle the warlocks injured legs or touch his raw burns more than necessary. Even so Merlin winced with every step Percival took.

“When we get to the tree line we can make a stretcher.” Leon suggested, noticing Merlin’s discomfort.

As they passed, the wyvern in the cage nearby gave a sad little trill of farewell. With what seemed like tremendous effort, Merlin picked up his head at the sound and then looked for Arthur.

“Wait! We can’t just leave them like this.” Merlin said resolutely.

“We can’t let them go.” Arthur tried to reason, but he knew it was a lost cause from the way Merlin’s jaw was set in determination. “Merlin, what if they hurt someone?”

“Arthur, _Please._ ” Merlin begged looking up at the king with big glowing gold eyes, so like those of the creatures around them. “No one deserves to be left in a place like this.”

Arthur sighed and nodded, a new thought occurring to him. He had promised Edgar that neither he nor Merlin would see revenge, but he had never said anything about the other creatures. He couldn’t control them if he’d wanted to, and he didn’t think they’d have appreciated being locked up any more than Merlin did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know Arthur's a little OOC here, I just really liked the idea......


	10. Talks

Sometime later on their way back to Camelot they stopped for the night and made camp. Merlin had passed out on the stretcher they’d fashioned and hadn’t woken, his unconsciousness slipping into a restless sleep later in the night. He was positioned by the fire for warmth while Arthur dutifully watched over him and the others as they slept.

The king felt incredible relieved to have Merlin back but was still too tense to sleep himself, so he had stationed himself at the warlock’s side and volunteered for the first watch. He kept a wary eye on Merlin’s condition, mindful of his still too pale complexion and the puffy redness on his chest that didn’t bode well. Even in his sleep the warlock’s brow was creased in discomfort and he would squirm occasionally, whimpering when he bumped his wounds.

Arthur hated to see him like that, and they weren’t out of the woods yet. Just because they had rescued Merlin from his cage, didn’t mean they’d freed him from all his bonds. Arthur reached out and touched the silver band that was still secured around Merlin’s neck. They had tried every key on the key ring Edgar gave them but the smooth surface was unblemished and without a hole to insert one. The cold metal felt sinister to Arthur’s touch and sent shivers across his skin.

As if sensing Arthur’s discomfort, Merlin’s golden eyes fluttered open and he looked around wildly trying to figure out where he was. The sight of the glowing gold was still a shock to Arthur and he had to stop himself from drawing away from the tell-tale sign of magic. However he was determined not to let Merlin see his reluctance and placed a gentle hand on the warlocks arm.

“You’re awake.” He announced quietly with the attempt at a kind smile. “It’s about time.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, surprised at Arthur’s friendly attitude. He had half expected to wake up with his hands bound and being dragged back to Camelot for execution. There was still strain behind the kings’ eyes, but he was trying. Merlin attempted to sit up and look around, but Arthur firmly pushed him back down.

“No, no. You need to rest.” The king ordered, using his best Gaius impersonation. He took a bracing breath before asking seriously “How do you feel?”

Merlin attempted his own goofy smile and responded in voice croaky with disuse “Like someone took a hot poker to chest and broke both my legs, but other than that…..Still better than a day with you on the training field” he trailed off with a wry smirk that turned into a wince.

Arthur snorted and before he could stop himself he was dissolving into poorly contained giggles followed by laughter. The hurt man before him hadn’t even said anything funny. It was just so like _Merlin_ ; the smile through the pain, the dismissive attitude. The man must have been in incredible pain and he was trying to smother it with cheek. His emotional reserves overflowing from neglect and the yo-yo trip they’d been on in the last few day, Arthur was helpless to stop himself. Once Arthur started laughing, Merlin found himself laughing as well, even though he couldn’t fathom why.

“Why are …..we…..laughing?” Arthur wheezed, trying to get himself back under control.

“I don’t know…..but.... it hurts!” Merlin gasped, holding his injured ribs which were shaking with laughter. Despite everything that had happened, a weird kinship reappeared between them and reminded both of the ten long years they had at each other’s side. All the worry and guilt from the past few days mixing with the relief of the ordeal being over.

“Okay.” Arthur said after a minute or two. He wiped a few tears from his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. “okay I’m back. Are you alright?”

Merlin nodded, his shoulders still shaking with the occasional giggle. “Yes, but I think I might have pulled a muscle in my ribs.” Without thinking about it, Arthur reached over and gently probed Merlin’s ribs with his fingers.

“It doesn’t feel broken, but you shouldn’t agitate it further just in case.” He ordered, feeling very strange. He’d seen Merlin doctor people enough times to know what to look for, but having their roles reversed felt weird. “You’ve got the beginnings of an infection on your chest and you shouldn’t move your legs yet either. I don’t suppose you could just heal yourself?”

Once Merlin had taken a few deep breaths to steady himself and gotten over the shock of the fact the Arthur had just asked him to preform sorcery, he replied “Not while this collar’s on. It stops me from doing any magic”

Arthur didn’t miss a beat before asking “So how do we get it off?”

“I don’t know.” The warlock admitted.

They sat in an almost awkward silence for a while as each was absorbed in his own thoughts, yet completely aware of every move the other made. Arthur’s mind drifted back to Camelot and he wondered how Gwen’s mission of repealing the ban on magic was going while Merlin contemplated his options for the future.

Arthur’s attitude confused him. He’d never expected the king to come to his rescue and he wasn’t sure what they were to each other now. They weren’t servant and master, Merlin vaguely remembered being fired along with being banished. They had never openly been friends, even though Arthur had never lost that status in Merlin’s mind. And they couldn’t exactly be King and subject with the law obligating Merlin’s death every second he remained in the kingdom. The fact that Arthur was willing to be within an arm’s length of the warlock surprised Merlin, let alone laugh with him about nothing. Merlin searched his brain for a reason for Arthur’s sudden change of heart, and came up with what he thought was the only explanation. If he was right, then maybe there was a way for him to stay alive and continue to be at Arthur’s side.

Merlin fidgeted on the stretcher, nervous about pitching his idea.

“Arthur, I was thinking……” Merlin started, but Arthur cut him off.

“That’s never a good sign.” The king joked, and Merlin smiled at the attempt at familiarity. Their bantering wasn’t quite up to par, having a forced undertone to it, but Arthur’s determined attempts to act like they used to left him feeling optimistic. It warmed Merlin’s heart and made him hopeful that the king was trying to restore some semblance of their former friendship.

“I was thinking,” Merlin continued on, ignoring the jibe. “Maybe I should keep this on.” He said, gesturing mildly at the silver band around his neck.

Arthur went still as stone, convinced he must have misunderstood the other man “What?”

“Maybe I should keep it on.” Merlin repeated calmly, then explained when he realized Arthur was still staring at him “It’s just that….well, when I have it on, I can’t do magic. I’m not a threat to you, or anyone else in Camelot. Maybe if I keep it on, I could stay…..in Camelot. If you’d let me. You’re always saying how much you’d hate to have to train a new manservant.” He said, not looking at Arthur for fear of rejection and painfully aware of how his eyes glowed. However against his wishes, his optimistic mind was already playing with the idea of being able to return to Camelot. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to use his magic, but he had made enough friends within the magical community to be able to enlist help in Arthur’s defense, should an occasion arise. And it would be far easier to coordinate efforts to protect the king if he was allowed to stay at his side. Merlin glanced up from under his lashes at Arthur who was staring blank faced at the ground with his brow furrowed, and his hope dropped out from under him.

“Merlin….”Arthur said hoarsely. Merlin shook his head, mortified to find a few tears leaking from his eyes and he quickly brushed them away with the back of his hand. The warlock hurried to recant his words before the king saw his disappointment.

“It’s okay,” He hurried, tripping over his own words “I should have known….I mean, I understand I can’t…….”

“Gilli said it was painful.” Arthur interrupted in a dead tone of voice, not having moved barely a muscle since Merlin had made his request. His statuesque features revealed none of his thoughts as he continued “He called it a torture device.”

“Well, it’s only _really_ bad when I accidentally to do magic” Merlin explained “Most of the time it just kind of itches and feels like there’s a bee buzzing around in my head somewhere.”

Arthur stared at the warlock, really seeing him for maybe the first time. The fact that Merlin was willing to keep the collar on in order to stay at his side both amazed and horrified him.

“Why would you…”He started to ask, accidently voicing his thoughts and then had to follow through with it. “Why would you do that? Why would you risk so much pain?” _Why would you **want** to come back to Camelot?_

Merlin gave him a funny look, like he was surprised Arthur hadn’t figured it out yet.

“I told you once that I was happy to be your servant until the day I died.” He said in a voice more akin to a man swearing an oath of allegiance, and Arthur realized that was exactly what it was. “I meant it then, and I still mean it now.”

Warlock and king looked at each other, Arthur’s blue eyes meeting Merlin’s shinning gold ones as understanding dawned on the king. Merlin wasn’t a knight, he wasn’t a noble, he wasn’t anything Arthur had ever encountered before. Yet what he saw in the eyes of the magical servant, born a simple country boy, was what he had been unconsciously searching for for as long as he could remember. It was why Morgana’s betrayal had hurt so much, why Agravaines had as well. When Merlin looked at him, Arthur saw the total and unreasonable loyalty that came only with family. And that’s what Merlin was; he was family.

Arthur cleared his throat, which was suddenly tight with emotion the strength of which made him uncomfortable. He decided that then was as good a time as any to finally confront the warlock about the millions of questions he had.

“Merlin, I...I want to know. About everything, everything that has happened and you couldn’t tell me before. But please,” Arthur begged “No more lies.”

Merlin gulped. He owed Arthur the truth. The whole truth, as much as airing his mistakes to the kings judgement terrified him.

“I promise you I will answer any questions you ask me with the truth, but you’re not going to like some of the answers. I’m made mistakes and people have died because of them. But you have to know….I always thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was doing what was best for you and Camelot.” Merlin pleaded.

Arthur placed the palm of his hand on Merlin’s shoulder soothingly, and the warlock immediately calmed down.

“I understand” Arthur told him. And he did. When he looked at the sincerity and raw vulnerability in Merlin’s bruised face, he felt even more ashamed for ever having doubted him. He wasn’t naive to the fact that Merlin had been silently fighting a secret war on Camelot’s behalf for years. He had even started to put a few of the pieces together on their journey to rescue him. Yet, above all he understood that he owed it to Merlin to listen to him, just as Merlin owed it to Arthur to tell him.

For a moment Arthur floundered with what to ask first, then remembered something Merlin had said earlier that confused him.

“How can you _accidentally_ do magic?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Sometimes I don’t even really think about it.” Merlin admitted sheepishly. “Mum said I started levitating my toys when I was about six months old, though I don’t remember it. I _do_ remember going to sleep one night thinking about how much I wanted apples and then realizing the next morning I’d grown a small apple tree in the middle of our house.” He chuckled fondly at the memory. “Boy, was my mother mad!”

“Gaius told me you were born with magic. I didn’t...” Arthur started, then corrected himself “I _don’t_ understand what that means? How could someone be born with magic?”

“I have no idea.” Merlin admitted with a humorless chuckle that startled Arthur. “I don’t think anyone really does, except maybe Killigarrah and he’s certainly not going to give me a straight answer. _I’m one of a kind_.”

“Then why did you stay in Camelot?” Arthur asked. He ran a hand through his blond hair with a bit of exasperation. “You would have been welcomed into the court of any kingdom in Albion where magic is legal. They would have granted you land, a title and much more to gain your allegiance. Why stay in a place where you could have been arrested at any moment?”

Merlin looked at him like he was being very stupid, or missing something obvious.

“I stayed to protect you. I stayed because it’s your destiny to become the greatest king Albion has ever seen. The Once and Future king.”

The back of Arthur’s neck prickled in eerie recognition.

“Edgar called me that.” He told him. “He said it was part of some druid prophecy. He called you Emwis”

“ _Emrys”_ Merlin corrected with a frown. He tried to be nonchalant as he explained “That’s what the druids call me. They kind of worship me and use it like a title. It basically means that I’m the most powerful warlock there is or ever will be.” He peeked up at the king, hoping he wasn’t too freaked out. Arthur had schooled his features to give nothing away, but his face was noticeably paler. There was quiet for some time as Arthur processed.

“Huh.” He said at last, then gave Merlin a skeptical look. “Worship? Really?”

Merlin nodded with a tentative smile. Arthur wasn’t reaching for his sword yet, which was a good sign. But then again, they hadn’t started talking about his more costly mistakes. Thinking about those times sobered Merlin. He felt the full force of his guilt over all the innocents who were dead because of him, guilt he constantly pushed to the back of his mind to stay sane. Now having to spill everything to Arthur brought it all up and into the light. He was so lost in his darker memories that he almost missed Arthur’s next question.

“Merlin, I understand why you decided to protect me” Arthur said, and he really did. He knew it was part of Merlin’s nature to try and help people, and he knew the feeling of responsibility to protect someone else- it was pretty much the way he felt about Merlin. “but why didn’t you tell me about your magic? Did you really think I’d have you killed?”

Merlin didn’t say anything, and Arthur’s worst fears seemed to be confirmed. It was obvious that Merlin was willing to die (or worse) to protect Arthur, but he had no faith in Arthur’s loyalty to Merlin. It was true Merlin’s magic had been a shock, but he had known almost immediately that he wasn’t capable of causing the warlocks death. Merlin’s faith in him to do the right thing was one of the few things Arthur could always rely on. One of the few things he _needed_. That loss, the loss of Merlin’s faith, hurt more than he could bare.

“You might be better off if you had.” Merlin said in barely a whisper, so quite Arthur wasn’t sure if he was meant to have heard.

“What?”

“I said you might be better off if you had” Merlin said a bit louder, then clarified “Killed me, that is.”

“ _No_.” Arthur hissed on instinct, repulsed by the very idea “Why would you…. Why would you even say something like that?!” The king had gotten to his feet and loomed over Merlin as he demanded answer.

“Why delay the inevitable?” Merlin challenged. Arthur sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to rain in his anger.

“You still think I’m going to kill you?” He seethed “You idiot! Why would I come rescue you from that cage if I was going to kill you!?”

“Because you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I’m asking you now!” Arthur had begun to pace back and forth next to the fire. “You’re a sorcerer! You’ve broken the highest law in the land by practicing magic, and even then I couldn’t bring myself to see you come to harm. What could you have possibly done that is worse than that?”

There was only the sound of the fire crackling as Arthur stared at Merlin, demanding an answer.

“You promised me honesty.” Arthur reminded him.

Merlin clenched his jaw. He didn’t know how Arthur would react to the news, but he wasn’t optimistic for his own chances of survival. His eyes flicked toward the sword at Arthurs side, which Arthur saw.

The King angrily unbuckled his belt and tossed his sword aside and out of reach, scabbard and all.

“There. Now talk.” Arthur implored with an order.

When Merlin finally spoke, he didn’t look at Arthur as he said:

“I killed your father.”

Arthur blinked at him and began to shake his head in denial.

“No. No you didn’t.” He scoffed, trying to shake the notion off as impossible. “It was Dragoon. The old sorcerer. It wasn’t you.”

Merlin closed his eyes and a single tear leaked out onto his cheek.

“It was an ageing spell.” He croaked with a voice thick with emotion. He thought back to how devastated Arthur had been, how lost he had seemed after his father’s death, and felt like the guilt would eat him alive. He should have checked the room for other enchantments, he should have expected Morgana to try something. But he hadn’t. He had failed and Arthur had gone through terrible pain because of it.

Arthur was still trying in his mind to deny that it was possible, but as he looked at the dark haired man in front of him he picked out the shape of his facial bones, imagining those donning wrinkles rather than the young skin they now sported. He remembered the sorcerer’s eyes, hauntingly familiar, and he knew it was true.

“ _Why_?” Arthur growled

Another tear fell down Merlin’s cheek.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sobbed. “I was trying to heal him. The spell would have worked if only Morgana hadn’t reversed it.”

“Morgana?” Arthur asked. “What did she have to do with it?”

“She place a pendent on Uther that would reverse any magical spells cast on him. Instead of healing him, I just made him worse.”

“Then Morgana did it” Arthur said, clinging to the idea of Merlin’s innocence “you didn’t know she had reversed things. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I _should_ have known.” Merlin spat viciously, disgusted with his own failure. “I should have known she would try something like that. Especially after what she did to……”

“What did she do to who?”

Merlin clammed up and shook his head, wiping the snot from his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“Merlin, you promised.” Arthur reminded him.

“What she did to you and Gwen.” Merlin whispered. He watched Arthur carefully for his reaction. The king went very still, leaning away slightly as if bracing himself as he asked;

“What do you mean?”

“She brought Lancelot back from the dead.” Merlin explained, but he stared into the fire as he did so, unwilling to look Arthur in the eye. “He was a wrath, a mere shadow of the man we knew. I knew he wasn’t himself, that she was controlling him somehow, but I thought _you_ were her target. I never considered that she would go after Gwen, that she would try and attack your happiness together.”

“Wait, you mean…. She….that means Guinevere was….” Arthur trailed off, his mind dredging up the memories he had tried so hard to burry deep in the back of his mind.

“I found a bracelet in Gwen’s cell after she was ban--, after she left. It had a love spell, or really an attraction spell placed on it. That’s why Gwen…..” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Arthur’s memories were already replaying the scene over and over again, but this time under the light of the new information.

“She was enchanted?” Arthur whispered as though in a daze. He had gone rather pale himself to match Merlin’s pallor and looked like he was fighting to keep down his dinner. “And I….I _banished_ her for it.” Guilt and pain on behalf of Guinevere’s ordeal hit him like a blow to the stomach. Fury flashed through him as he thought about the woman responsible.

“ _Morgana_.” Arthur hissed, his fists clinching in anger and all of the blood rushing back to his face. “I hate her. I really _hate_ her. I just… I don’t understand what went wrong? She used to be so good. Gods, she’s the one who taught me how to stand up for what I though was right, against my father, against _everyone_. What happened to her?”

“She started developing her powers and she got scared. She was alone with no one to turn to until Morgause showed up and gave her something to fight for.” Merlin got much quieter as he reflected back on his mistakes so many years ago. “I knew. I knew how lonely, and scared and desperate she was. I was warned about what she would become, and because of that I wasn’t there to comfort her or guide her into the light. Morgana fell into darkness because I wasn’t there for her when I should have been. She was my friend and I let her down. The evil we have to deal with today is my fault.”

“That’s not true.” Arthur argued. “Morgana has made her own choices and her crimes are her own. You were as scared and alone as she was for far longer and you never turned evil.” Merlin said nothing, remembering all the blood that was on his hands since coming to Camelot. He couldn’t quite say he agreed. Arthur let out a dry laugh, recalling things for himself.

“When I think back on everything….all the ‘luck’ we’ve had over the years…..it was all you, wasn’t it? All the miraculous recoveries, all the unsurvivable challenges we survived. It was all you.” Arthur laughed again, remembering “You really did cure Guinevere’s father, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” Merlin said soberly “And Gwen was almost burned at the stake because of it. I probably could have healed everyone who got sick back then, but I didn’t. I just stayed silent and watched as they died to save my own skin. That was one of the first lessons I learned in Camelot. Overtime it got easier to justify my inaction; I told myself you needed me alive, that I had to remain hidden so I could protect you…..but the truth is I’m just a coward.”

“You’re not….” Arthur tried, but Merlin interrupted him.

“ _You’d_ never have stayed hidden.” He challenged, looking straight into Arthur’s eyes. “Neither you, or any of the knights would have ever stood by and watched people die to protect yourselves. I’ve seen you try to drink poison to save a lowly servant.”

“Revealing yourself would have been suicide” Arthur snapped a little sharper than he’d meant to. The depth of Merlin’s mental self-punishment troubled him and he was beginning to realize that it stemmed from living his entire life with an executioners axe hanging over his head. An axe which Arthur was partially responsible for putting there.

“These type of decisions regarding life and death are one’s you should never have had to make. _I_ am the king, my peoples safety is ultimately _my_ responsibility, not yours. I have been trained since birth to make these type of decisions and how to deal with the consequences. You should never have had to bare these burdens, certainly not by yourself. I wish…. I wish you’d told me before. You should never have had to carry that weight alone.”

“And I didn’t drink that ‘poison’ for just any servant” the king reminded him “I drank it to save _you_.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Merlin choked out, tears trickling down his cheeks and his nose going cherry red “I’m not worth it. My life is really not worth as much as yours, and not just because you’re king.”

“I always thought it was just the ban on magic that kept me from telling you, that the law was the thing separating us. But the truth is Arthur, I’m just like all the other creatures in those cages! The griffins, the wyverns, the sidhe; they’re all creatures of magic, just as I am. We’re monsters. You kill monsters, Arthur it’s your job. More than that, it’s part of who you are, you protect your people. Protect them from things like me.”

“You’re not a thing, Merlin.”

“I’m not human. I may look like it, but just like the Lamia it’s just on the surface. You were right; I am a monster.”

Merlin looked away from the king, to wipe the swell of tears that dripped to his chin. Therefore, he didn’t see the attack coming until it was too late.

Arthur reached over and smacked Merlin hard upside that back of his head.

“Ow!” Merlin complained loudly, but the king ignored him.

“You _idiot_.” Arthur stressed venomously, and for the briefest of moments Merlin was scared of the King’s obvious fury, not understanding what he had done to upset him so much.

“I was wrong. Do you hear me!? I was _wrong_ to call you that Merlin, and I’m……I’m sorry. Sorrier than you can ever believe. Even though I said it, I didn’t believe it for a second, not really. And you shouldn’t believe it either. You’re not a monster, Merlin.”

“I’m not human.” Merlin reiterated again, gesturing mildly at his glowing eyes. He hadn’t realized how much the revelation had bothered him until then. He had always known he was different, more powerful than any other sorcerers, and Killigarrah had called him a creature of magic before, but he had never connected the dots and figured out that it meant he wasn’t human. The discovery left him feeling empty inside and lonelier than he’d ever been before.

Arthur regarded him carefully before finally nodding solemnly.

“Maybe you’re not. It would make sense after all” Arthur admitted, and even though there was no revulsion or disgust in his voice like Merlin had expected, the words still cut the warlock deeply. But then Arthur continued, barely choking the words out “Merlin……no _human_ could ever hope to have half the heart or the goodness you possess. No _human_ could ever be as loyal, as compassionate, or as wise as you are. And no _human_ could even compete at being a better friend.”

Arthur reached out and gently grabbed the back of Merlin’s head. He pulled the Warlock toward him and knocked their foreheads together with a bit more force than was necessary. Merlin closed his eyes as the king pressed his own forehead against his and said:

“ _I am honored to call you my friend_ , **_my brother_** ” He ruffled Merlin’s dark locks with brotherly affection “ _Human or not._ ”

The moment was ruined when Gwaine’s voice echoed across the camp startling them both back into reality.

“Good, now can you both _shut up_ and _go to sleep_!”

 

 


	11. Journey

The next morning the group started to pack up camp, but were in no hurry as none of them knew exactly where to go. It was clear the first priority was freeing Merlin from the collar, but as it turned out that was easier said than done.

“Do you have any idea how to remove this?” Arthur asked Gilli, who had come over to sit by Merlin and him. The warlock had not woken from when he drifted off to sleep after his talk with Arthur, who hadn’t left his side all night. Gilli frowned at the collar.

“No. Its powerful magic” He told the king, shaking his head. “Much more powerful than any counter spell I could come up with. The only ones who have enough power to break an enchantment of this magnitude are the High priestesses, or the Sidhe. Maybe dragon fire could break it….”He trailed off with a shrug.

Arthur chewed on his lip as he thought. A priestess was unlikely, seeing as Morgana was the last one still living and she was in no hurry to help them. The strange white dragon was out as well, seeing as it too seemed to be the last of its kind and loyal to Morgana.

“Where do we find the Sidhe?” Arthur sighed.

“We don’t.” Merlin said, startling them both. He had gone back to keeping his eyes firmly closed to hide his glowing irises, but he turned his head slightly in their direction to show he was addressing them. “The Sidhe and I don’t exactly get along. I doubt they’d be willing to help me with anything.”

“How did you manage to anger the Sidhe?” Gilli asked with awe, knowing the stories about the supernatural people’s ancient power.

“They had an odd tendency to try and marry Arthur back in the day.” Merlin said with a little grin. Even with his eyes closed he knew exactly what the expression of incredulity on Arthur’s face looked like.

“What? I’ve never almost married a sidhe!” Arthur protested “I’ve never even met one!”

“Remember Sophia?” Merlin reminded him. “Or Elena?”

“ _Elena_ ’s a _Sidhe_?” Arthur screeched, his voice rising a few octaves higher than normal. Gilli bit his bottom lip to keep himself for laughing out loud, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“She was a changeling, which is pretty much the same thing. She’s human now, after I killed the one inside her and her handmaid.”

“Of course you did.” Arthur muttered slightly bitter. It seemed like people near him were turning out to be magical creatures left and right. “Well if we can’t go to them, I don’t suppose you know any friendly dragons or priestesses, do you?” he asked Gilli, who shook his head apologetically.

Merlin on the other hand shut his eyes even tighter, bracing himself for Arthur’s reaction.

“Actually….”

“You’re joking,” Arthur accused, giving him a hard look. “You _actually_ know a high priestess who would help us?”

“Well no.” Merlin admitted “not _a priestess_ ….”

There was a moment of dead silence while Arthur and Gilli worked through what Merlin was implying. They got it at the same time.

“A dragon? Really?” Gilli asked excitedly while Arthur had to remind himself to close his mouth, which had fallen open in shock.

“No.” Arthur said firmly, shaking his head. He was plagued with memories of the great dragon’s attack on Camelot. The fire raining down from the sky and the people screaming. Having to watch as the knights around him were decimated one by one until he was the only one left standing. They were ill prepared to battle such a creature in the state they were in now.

“I can control him.” Merlin assured him, reading the kings mind.

“How?”

All of Merlin’s muscles tensed up and he took a deep breath.

“I’m a dragonlord.”

“What?” Arthur choked, running his hand through his hair. “You’re….Merlin, when the dragon attacked, why didn’t you do something! Why did we have to go find the other one!”

Merlin’s eyes squeezed even tighter together.

“Because I wasn’t a dragonlord until after we came back.”

“What does that mean?!?” Arthur shouted with frustration. Gilli laid a warning hand on the kings arm.

“Arthur, a dragonlord’s powers are only passed down from father to son when the father dies.” He explained quietly.

Arthur’s gut clinched as he understood what Gilli was saying. He dropped back down to his knees at Merlin’s side.

“Balinor….He was your father?” He asked, and Merlin gave a tiny nod of confirmation “Oh Merlin, why didn’t you tell me?” But Merlin didn’t answer, just hid behind his hand.

Arthur put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He could remember very little about that time other that the death and flames that consumed everything. Yet he remembered how Merlin had waited outside for him during his own vigil for his father. He regretted not being able to return the favor.

“But that means….”Arthur said coming to a sudden realization. “You’re the one who actually killed that dragon, aren’t you?”

Merlin winced through closed eyes.

“Actually….I granted him mercy.” He admitted “He’s the one who will help us.”

“You have got to be joking.” Arthur breathed dangerously. “You want to ask for help from the _same dragon_ that _blew apart_ half of my city!?”

“He’s become an ally.” Merlin tried to convince him.

“No.” Arthur declared regally “Absolutely not. We’ll think of another way, because there is no chance in _hell_ I am asking that _horrible beast_ for help!” 

 

* * *

 

 A few hours later, they were all mounted up and on their way toward the cave Merlin thought the dragon was staying in. The collar prevented him from using his powers to summon the creature, but Merlin said the bond between them was so strong that he could sense the general vicinity the dragon was in.

Arthur had been very vocal in his protests for a full hour, before finally giving in as they really didn’t have a better plan. He was still quite bitter about it though.

It wasn’t a long ride, but their progress was seriously hampered by having to go at a slow pace. Merlin’s legs had been splinted with tree branches and his wounds heavily bandaged, but still every time the horse moved he was in serious pain. He tried his hardest not to show it, but every now and then a cry or a whimper would escape him.

He was currently riding with Gwaine and trying very hard not to bump the Knight with any of his wounds, but failing more often than not. The dark haired night noticed his pain and called for them to stop.

“But we’re so close!” Merlin objected “I can feel it.”

“We need to change your bandages, mate.” Gwaine said, gently handing him off to Percival, who lowered him to the ground. “Besides, I figure you could use the break.”

It seemed to be Gwaine’s turn to tend to his wounds, which the knight did with a gentleness that surprised the warlock. But despite his efforts, Merlin still winced as Gwaine gently washed off some of the puss and infection that was draining from the open wound on his leg. His fever was better than it had been, but he still shivered despite the layers of blankets and cloaks he was bundled under. Gwaine looked like he wanted to ask Merlin something, but was cut off as Arthur came over to them, the concerned look that hadn’t left his face since first seeing Merlin’s injuries still present.

“I’ll have to go get some more fresh water.” Gwaine announced, surveying the remainder of their medical supplies. Merlin felt guilty about using them all up and being so useless in the treatment. It was usually him that helped the knights when they were sick or injured, he wasn’t used to it being the other way around.

“I’ll sit with him.” Arthur offered, sitting down beside Merlin and watching him carefully to see if he would fall over. Gwaine nodded glancing down at Merlin’s injuries one last time before he left. He shook his head and shot Arthur a dirty look, which the king ignored, before going off to find water.

Merlin frowned at that, but had a guess as to its meaning. Unlike Percival and Leon, Gwaine had been absent when Merlin’s powers were revealed so Merlin had no idea how he had reacted to the news and hadn’t had a chance to talk to him about it. He automatically assumed that Gwaine had felt almost as betrayed as Arthur had, yet all the knights had acted kind enough toward him since his rescue. For the most part Merlin had chalked that up to pity due to his injured state, but maybe Arthur had ordered them? Maybe they hadn’t even wanted to come rescue him but Arthur had made them. He had to know.

“Are the knights mad at me?” Merlin asked Arthur in a quiet voice, a little scared to hear the answer. Arthur glanced at him, surprised at the question, then sighed as he put the pieces together with Gwaine’s attitude.

“No. They're mad at me.”

“Why? What did you do?”

Arthur snorted and gave Merlin and incredulous look.

“Are you serious right now? What do you think they're mad at me about?!?”

 _For making them come rescue a sorcerer_? Merlin wanted to say, but was too afraid of hearing his suspicions confirmed. Instead he decided to stall for a bit by luring Arthur off subject. A hint of his old self poked out from beneath his pale features.

“Did you forget Gwen's birthday? Because I told you about it probably a thousand times.” This stopped Arthur short and his eyes widened comically in horror.

“Wait what? When was Gwen's birthday?”

“It was _yesterday! Arthur!”_ Merlin scolded, barely keeping a grin off his face. He’d known Arthur would forget. _“_ I _told_ you the gift you were supposed to give her was hidden in your wardrobe!”

“I don't remember you telling me that!” Arthur snipped incredulously.

“Well I did. Just about _a thousand_ times!”

“No you didn't.”

“Yes, you prat, I did!”

The two sat in silence for a few moments as Arthur tried desperately to remember the date of Gwen’s birthday. How was he supposed to remember these things? That was what Merlin was for! Oh.

“........was it _really_ Gwen's birthday?”

Merlin just glared up at him pointedly.

“Oops.” Arthur murmured “Well, did I get her a good gift?”

“Yes. A very good gift.” Merlin confirmed. “New embroidery needles, since she broke he old ones last month. And they’re the kind she likes too, that don’t hurt her hands.”

“Oh good.” Arthur nodded, briefly marveling at the fact that Merlin knew more about his wife than he did. If it had been anyone else, he might have been jealous. How had he ever contemplated living without him?

Merlin on the other hand was bracing himself for more disappointment and rejection, feeling slightly braver after a round of bantering with the king. He asked again:

“So, if it wasn’t that, then why are the Knights mad at you?”

Arthur tried to keep his tone jovial, but his jaw clinched and his cheeks colored slightly with shame.

“You may remember it, Merlin, about a week ago in the great hall I did something extraordinarily stupid and banished my most loyal servant.”

“I do remember something about that, and your right; it _was_ pretty stupid. But why would the knights care?”

“ _Why would they care_?!”

“I mean, I guess leaving put you and the kingdom at a strategic disadvantage since I _am_ your only form of magical defense, but that was hardly your fault. If they should be mad at anyone, it’s probably me”

“Mad at you? Why the hell would they be mad at you?”

Merlin looked at Arthur like he was missing the obvious.

“I’m a sorcerer. I lied to them.”

“You lied to _survive,_ Merlin.” Arthur reminded him softly. “They know that. They understand. They’re your _friends_.”

Merlin turned his head away to hide the sudden swelling in the back of his throat. Part of him tried to shut Arthur’s words out. He couldn’t allow himself the hope that not only Arthur would forgive him, but the knights as well. It would only make it harder when they got over their pity and did reject him.

Arthur’s hand covered Merlin’s wrist and he let his head nock against Merlin’s affectionately, which the warlock predictably hissed and complained about. The king smiled and wandered off to help Leon with the horses just as Gwaine returned and continued to wash Merlin’s wounds with the fresh water.

Merlin thought about what Arthur had said, but still couldn’t bring himself to look at Gwaine. So he kept his eyes firmly shut as the knight worked, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. He was startled back into reality as Gwaine spoke:

“Do your eyes hurt?” He asked.

Merlin turned his head away out of shame and admitted:

“No, I just…. I don’t want to scare anyone.”

Gwaine was quite for a little while as he pondered that, then to Merlin’s surprise he chuckled.

“Mate, cats kind of out of the bag on you having magic.” He said, still trying to be jovial.

“Knowing’s one thing, seeing’s another.” Merlin reminded him quietly. He heard Gwaine sigh and put down the bandages. He peeked one golden eye open and saw the knight looking down at him seriously.

“Merlin, you know I don’t care, right?” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t care that you have magic. I don’t even care that you kept it a secret! I mean…..How many boots did we shine that day in the throne room?” Gwaine said with a little grin at the memory.

“What?” Merlin questioned, startled by the seemingly random change in topic.

“How many boots?”

“ _Too_ many.” Merlin grimaced, remembering also.

“Damn right. _Too many_. As far as I concerned, a person can’t spend that much time shining boots with someone without becoming friends with them, and also getting a pretty good look at their character. I don’t know what kind of secret wizardy shinanagins you’ve been getting up to this whole time, but it doesn’t change who you are. And who you are is the man who sat next to me and shined a gazillion boots- you’re my friend.” Gwaine said in a rare serious voice, “I _am_ a little mad you didn’t take me along though…..”

“On my ‘ _wizardy shinanagins’_?” Merlin mocked, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a whole week, a grin spreading across his face. He hadn’t believed Arthur’s acceptance of him at first, mostly because he had stopped hoping for it. But Gwaine’s acceptance somehow made Arthur’s seem more real, made him think that despite everything that had happened- maybe he hadn’t lost everything.

“Exactly.” Gwaine winked at him “And you know, when we get that stupid collar off, I’ve got some _great_ ideas for some…….let’s call it _home improvement_ for the castle.”

Merlin laughed, genuinely curious about the nefarious plots Gwaine was dreaming up for his magic.

Gwaine was prevented from explaining his plans when the sun was briefly blotted out from the sky as a gigantic figure flew low overhead.

“What was that?” Percival murmured, reaching for his sword. Leon looked like it was taking everything he had not to flee.

Suddenly a creature the size of a small house dropped from the sky in front of them with enough force to shake the earth. It raised its large reptilian head and peered at the band of men with gold silted eyes.

Arthur and the knights readied themselves for the worst, swords up and ready, but Merlin looked at the figure and smiled.

“Kilgharrah.” He greeted.

 

 


	12. Healing

“Young warlock” The dragon hailed to the broken figure before him. “It is good to see you. But I must say, you have looked better.”

 Merlin let out a little snort of agreement.

 “Oh gods, it talks.” Gwaine swore, then turned to Percival “Did you know dragons’ could talk?”

 Percival shushed him.

Arthur gulped and peeled his fingers away from the hilt of his sword. He mustered up all of his training as king and took a step forward.

“Great Dragon.” He addressed the creature confidently. It took more effort than it should have to swallow his pride and spit out the words. “We require your….. _assistance_.”

 Because there was no way in hell he was going to use the word help. Not with the beast that had slaughtered his men. Who had terrorized his people. Whose flames had burned his city. If it had been anyone but Merlin, _anyone_ else, he would never have been there. He wouldn’t have taken his hand from his sword until it was buried deep in the creatures’ heart.

 But this was Merlin, and humbling himself before the symbol of everything his father opposed was the least he could do to. He would walk through the fires of hell and back if it would make Merlin whole again.

The dragon tilted his head to the side and peered at the King, only just noticing him and the others. It drew up to its full height and towered over Arthur, narrowing its eyes wrathfully.

“And so, all is finally revealed.” The dragons wizened voice taunted. “You know what he is?”

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, before looking back at the dragon and nodding soberly.

“And are you responsible for his current state?” it snapped.

 Arthur’s hands clinched into fists at his side. He knew what the dragon was thinking; that he personally had hurt Merlin. That he was the one who had beaten him and chained him up, as some sort of twisted punishment for being a sorcerer. It was the kind of thing his father would have done.

 And just like that Arthur’s anger dissolved. Because really, had what he done been so different? He may not have physically been the one to hurt Merlin, but he was the one who was ultimately responsible. He never should have let him leave his sight.

“He rescued me.” Merlin interjected earnestly, interrupting the creature’s death glare. “They all did.”

The dragon looked at them appraisingly, but no longer had the steely glint in his eyes.

 “The collar on his neck” Arthur said, bringing the conversation back to the reason they were there. “We can’t get it off, it seems to be sealed with some sort of magic.”

The dragon lowered its gigantic head down to Merlin’s level and hissed angrily.

 “This is an abomination! Who dared to place such a restraint on my kin?”

 “It doesn’t matter!” The king snapped. “Can you get it off him or not!?!”

 He was nervous and anxious and at his wits end. He had managed to hold himself together so far, but was quickly losing control. More than anything he just wanted the damn thing _off_ of Merlin already and to have him back in Camelot where he belonged. Being judged by a dragon wasn’t really helping his stress levels.

 The creature regarded him coldly for a few minutes before stating in an equally cold voice;

 “Stand back.”

 The king and the knights scurried backwards while Merlin rolled his eyes. Between Arthur and Kilgharrah the melodrama was at an all-time high.

The dragon opened its mouth revealing long sharp teeth. It breathed a fiery mist on the sorcerer, which had Arthur yelling and sprinting toward the flames. A thousand murderous thoughts running through his head in the second it took him to reach Merlin, all the while cursing the dragon and its treacherous ways. They had trusted it and now it was trying to burn Merlin to a crisp!

Except when he slid into the dirt at Merlin’s side he did not find the burnt corpse he was expecting. Instead Merlin was looking at him with wide eyes, a sense of relief on his face. The collar hung off his neck, broken and hinged. Arthur snatched it off of his manservant and tossed it as far away from them as he could, finally rid of the bloody thing. His hands then turned to roam over Merlin, checking him for any hidden damage.

But what he found was signs that the warlocks’ wounds had begun to heal. They weren’t completely erased, more like the natural healing process had been accelerated several weeks. The infection was gone and his legs were well on the way to mending.

“Incredible.” Arthur breathed, looking at the result of the dragons’ magic.

Merlin grinned at him. Arthur Pendragon praising the work of magic, a dragon’s magic no less, was something he never would have thought possible. He turned to Kilgharrah.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely, and managed to hoist himself up onto his wobbly legs (despite Arthur’s squeak of protest).

“Yes, umm. Thank you.” The king also told the dragon equally as sincere, but a little awkward.

“There is very little I would not do to help the young warlock, but your words prove you are indeed vastly different from Uther.” Kilgharrah told the king, totally ignoring Merlin. “There was a time when I doubted if his devotion to you was returned, but this meeting has convinced me otherwise.”

“That’s not what you told me.” Merlin muttered bitterly. He was again ignored.

“Make sure no such harm ever befalls him again.” The dragon commanded Arthur. “For it is your destiny to protect him as much as it is his to protect you. Only with you both, Emrys and the Once and Future King, will Albion and peace prevail.”

“I understand.” Arthur said. And he did. When Merlin had been lost to him he had been miserable, the absence perforating his every thought and keeping him from being the best king he could be. Only with Merlin at his side was he able to be the kind of King that Camelot deserved.

The dragon tilted its head again and its nostrils twitched in what could have been taken for amusement. It looked almost like it was smiling, but before anyone could be sure it took off into the sky and quickly became a shadow vanishing into the distance.

“Can we go home now?” Leon said (because fully grown and senior knights do not _whine_ ).

Arthur snorted to cover a laugh and turned to the warlock beside him.

“What do you say Merlin, are you ready to go home?”

A wave of emotion struck him at the sound of the word. Home. Camelot. When he was banished, he had been sure it was a word he would never associate with the castle again. But now he was going home.

Unable to speak, he nodded.

* * *

 

They road into the citadel just as the sun was hitting high noon. Guinevere had seen them coming from the window and rushed down the steps to meet them. She didn’t even notice the addition of Gilli to their party, her gaze being monopolized by the first rider she saw. It was a sight her tired eyes rejoiced in.

 “Arthur!” She breathed with relief as he dismounted. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, paying no heed to the discomfort of his chainmail. Then her eyes gravitated to Merlin, who Gwaine was easing down. He was still worse for the ware, his legs shaking and wincing with pain, but his smile was solid.

 “Merlin.” She whispered, hand flying to cover her mouth as she tentatively approached him.

 “Hey Gwen.” He grinned at her. Gwen’s hand ghosted up and ran along his frame, but never touched him, like she was afraid of hurting him further. The closer she got, the more she could see the residual cuts and burns that hadn’t healed completely. The sight brought tears to her eyes.

 “Hey, Hey, don’t do that.” Merlin tutted. He stumbled toward her and embraced her before she could react and pull away.

 It was like the flood gates had opened. Gwen hugged him back, clutching to him even tighter than she had Arthur.

 “Umm, Gwen?” Merlin wheezed “Ouch!”

She let go of him hurriedly with an apology. Then Gaius came down the stairs accompanied by two guards, a stretcher between them. Gwen had barely left Merlin’s arms when the physician replaced her.

“Oh, my boy.”

 “Ouch” Merlin said again from beneath the vice of the old man’s arms. What followed was a bunch of fussing and hassle as Gaius and Gwaine helped him into the stretcher.

“Is he going to be alright?” Gwen asked Arthur as the stretcher was carried up the steps and away to Gaius’s chamber.

 “Yes.” he told her confidently, his gaze locked on the same target. “I’ll make sure of it.”

 Gwen smiled at her husband and took his hand in hers, stoking the back of his hand with her thumb. Ever since Merlin left she’d felt constantly uneasy, as if his absence from the castle and their lives was a constant pressure weighing down on her chest. Now that he was back it was like she could breathe again. Looking at Arthur she realized her distress had been only partially due to missing her friend. She had missed Merlin something awful, but more to the point she had also missed Arthur as well. So much of who he was and the man she had fallen in love with came from his relationship with Merlin that Arthur just wasn’t the same without Merlin at his side. It was good to have both of them back.

 Arthur pulled her off to the side slightly and asked in hushed voice.

“Did you…..you know…..Did you get it…..?”

Gwen’s smile turned into a smirk as she nodded, knowing exactly what he was asking.

 “It’s all written up and waiting on your writing desk for your signature and seal. I had Gaius and Geoffrey help me with the wording. They said it’s fairly similar to the old laws that were in effect before the purge, so there is some precedence. You can make the formal announcement tomorrow morning.”

 “And the lords?” Arthur asked with a wince, expecting the worst. Nearly all of the council of lords had been steadfast supporters of his father, some since the days of the purge. He didn’t expect them to accept the change in the law quietly.

 “All of them have pledged to publicly support a repeal of the ban on magic and enforce the new laws in their districts.”

“All of them?” Arthur gaped at her. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“If years of dealing with the thread merchants in the lower city has taught me anything, it’s how to negotiate.” She grinned at him smugly, then added with an afterthought “Oh, by the way, we have to invite Lord Erwin to eat with the court at least once a year from now on. And we owe Lord Stanford a cow.”

 “A cow?” Arthur scoffed. Gwen nodded and shot him the bewildered look she often did when members of the nobility did odd things she had trouble relating to.

 Arthur laughed and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

 “Guinevere, you are simply incredible.” He grinned at her and placed a loving kiss on her temple.

 “Are you going to tell him?” She asked.

“Not yet. He need some time to heal. His legs may never work as well as they did before.” Arthur said sadly, guilt and empathy for the warlock eating him up inside. “I should go check on him.”

“Go.” Gwen commanded, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him in close until their faces were only a few inches away. “Make sure he’s okay.”

Arthur ran a hand down her dark brown locks.

 “I love you.” He murmured, making her giggle.

“And I you.” She replied and kissed him, a long a deep kiss of glee and relief that their little family was once again whole.

 

 


	13. Home

When Arthur got to the physicians quarters, Gaius was in the front mixing foul smelling liquids together. The king gave him a curt nod on his way to Merlin’s room in the back. Inside, the warlock was sitting up in his bed tucked into the covers. So many fresh bandages were woven across his chest and arms that it looked like he was wearing a shirt.

 In his hands was a piece of parchment that Merlin was staring at so intensely he didn’t even notice Arthur come in.

“What’s this?” The king asked, snatching it from Merlin’s hands. But when he looked at it the words written on the parchment didn’t make any sense, he didn’t even recognize the language.

“It’s written in the language of the old religion” Merlin explained “It’s a note from Mordred.”

“Mordred?” Arthur sat down on the bed next to Merlin, looking to him for answers. The warlock looked tired and sad, running a hand across his face.

“He was a druid, raised with the prophecies of Emrys and the once and future king. I’d thought he’d given up believing in them, but I guess it’s hard to completely give that kind of think up. When he learned that I’d given up hope you would end the ban on magic, I guess he snapped. I’m sorry Arthur, but he’s gone.

 Arthur frowned. Remembering what had happened in the throne room that awful day, he couldn’t exactly blame Mordred. Faced with the possibility that Arthur would continue to hold the same view on magic and magic users as his father, Mordred had decided that he could no longer serve a King headed down that path.

 “Do still think that?” Arthur asked quietly. “Do you still think I won’t repeal the ban?”

 Merlin shrugged.

 “That’s your decision. I won’t try to make it for you. But you should know it doesn’t matter to me if you do or you don’t. I am going to protect you until the day I die, by any means I’m capable of, whether it’s legal or not.”

Arthur gave a kind of half smile of incredulity, Light blue eyes peering at the battered man before him.

“I promise you Merlin, I will be worthy your loyalty.” He swore.

Merlin tilted his head slightly.

“You already are, prat.”

The sappy moment was interrupted as Gaius came into the room, not caring about the tender moment warlock and king had been sharing.

 “Drink this.” The physician ordered, handing Merlin a potion. The dark haired man wrinkled his nose at its foul odor and began to protest.

“Really Gaius, I feel fine…” But he was cut off by the bushy eyebrow that skyrocketed and seriously disputed this fact. Merlin knew he’d lost the battle before it’d even begun and downed the concoction in one gulp. He then proceeded in making an array of faces in reaction to the taste that Arthur found very funny. Gaius looked satisfied.

“You are not to put weight on those legs for at least another week, do you hear me?” The physician decreed. Merlin nodded solemnly. Then Gaius turned on Arthur.

“He needs rest.”

“Alright, Gaius.” Arthur surrendered putting his hands up. Merlin rolled his eyes, but even as he did his lids were growing heavy and demanding sleep.

“I’ll come by tomorrow. I’ve got a gift for you.” Arthur told Merlin as he got up to leave.

 “A gift?” Merlin asked “What kind of gift?”

 “You’ll see.” Arthur taunted, laughing as he walked out the door. As he walked down the steps leading back to the main castle a servant tried to hurry past him put he grabbed his arm, stopping him.

 “Ah, George!” The king greeted. “I’ve got a job for you….”

* * *

 

(The next day)

The announcement had gone surprisingly well with the general populous. Many had been understandably shocked by the kings sudden change of heart as he stood on the balcony and proclaimed to them that sorcerers and users of magic would no longer be prosecuted for the act, but instead judged on the way they use the power magic granted them. Some said he must be enchanted. Others thought it to be a clever rouse to lure the sorcerers out of hiding. But as the day drew on and the whispers spread through the city of the kings manservant returning from banishment, a kind of understanding was also spread throughout the people.

Gwen smiled to herself as she walk down the hall, reflecting on the reports she’d just received. Her unique position as a former servant left her with the advantage of knowing who to trust among the lower classes for information. In fact since she’d become queen, she’d formed a sort of unofficial network of informants among her old friends through which she could easily poll the mood of the city and gain access to information a noble normally wouldn’t have access to. Arthur, and most of the other nobility, reviewed her determination to remain close with the servants and the people of the lower town as sentiment. But Gwen knew the value of having an ear with the working people who were the very heart of the city.

And what her friends had told her in the form of idle gossip had been overwhelmingly positive. It seemed most of the city had worked out that Merlin was the catalyst for Arthur’s change transformation of opinion. Even more amazingly, it seemed most approved. Everyone knew Merlin, either from his work with Gaius or for being Arthur’s constant shadow, and everyone liked him. A fact for which the Queen was thankful. It would make the next step in their plan go a lot smoother.

 Looking for her husband, Gwen entered their chambers and found them an absolute wreck. Pillows were tossed on the floor as well as papers and books. The carpet was only half uncoiled and in the wrong spot, and the drapes were crooked. In the center of it all, a very familiar (and in Gwen’s opinion, quite lovely) arse was sticking up into the air as the owner peered under the bed.

 “Damn it, Merlin!” She heard him mutter angrily. “Where did you put it?”

“Arthur?” She called softly. “What are you looking for?”

The king froze at the sound of her voice before jerking upward and hitting his head on the underside of the bed with a thud. When he got up he was massaging the blond hair where his head had come in contact with the wood.

 “Ah, Guinevere!” He greeted with a tone of false innocence that didn’t fool the queen for a moment. “I was just looking for….something. It doesn’t matter.” Even as he spoke, his eyes continued to scan the room, searching for the mysterious object. Gwen raised her eyebrows at him and was going to challenge him further, when an idea about what he was looking for occurred to her.

“Oh Arthur!” She cried suddenly, looking toward the window. “What’s that?!?”

 “What?” the king asked rushing to the window. When he had his back turned, Gwen calmly went to his wardrobe and retrieved a small wrapped parcel which she deposited on his desk. The she joined him at the window.

“Oh, It must have just been a bird. I guess it just startled me.” She said, batting her eyelashes at him for effect. Arthur didn’t exactly look convinced, but chalked it up to one of the many mysterious things women did he didn’t understand. When he turned back to the room he froze when he saw the parcel on his desk.

Gwen was still pointedly staring out the window, so he ran over and snatched the item up, hiding it behind his back.

 The Queen fought to contain a giggle as she approached him and he whipped the present into sight, a proud look on his face.

 “I know its a few day’s late,” He admonished “But: Happy Birthday!”

 “Oh, Arthur! You shouldn’t have.” She cooed carefully unwrapping her present. Inside she was thrilled to find a set of embroidery needles and a spool of bright blue thread (a rare color for that time of year.)

“They’re lovely!” she grinned, giving her husband a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Arthur.”

The king grinned and wrapped his arms around her, happy that she was happy.

“I thought your speech was lovely.” Gwen commented.

Arthur sighed, sobered by his own thoughts.

 “It’s a first step. The hate and fear that has been circulating throughout magic users and the people of Camelot for the last twenty five years is not going to disappear overnight. No matter what I do or say, some people will never trust magic, and some magic users will never trust me, but at least this will stop the killing.”

 “Merlin will be so proud of you, and for the record, so am I.” Gwen said with a smile. “Have you told him yet?”

 A mischievous grin dawned on Arthur’s features.

 “No, not yet. And I have an idea of how to do it….”

He was interrupted by a curt knock at the door, which he bid the visitor to enter and their stood George, a large package in his hands.

“Ah, George! Right on cue.” Arthur said taking the package from the servant. “Were there any problems?”

“No my lord.” The servant said with a respectful bow. “The tailor worked on your specifications well into the night, and finished it early this morning. At first he demanded double the payment for such a rushed job, but once he guessed it was for Merlin he agreed to do so for half the price.”

“How did he know it was for Merlin?” Arthur asked, confused. He hadn’t told anyone, even Gwen about his plans. His wife pulled a beautiful blue cloak and tunic with the Pendragon crest embroidered onto the chest in gold out of the packaging at set it on the bed.

“It really would suit no one else.” She answered him, looking at the fine-looking garment with awe.

 Arthur frowned at it.

“It’s missing something…….” He muttered, staring at the stunning cloak on the bed. The he snapped his fingers together as it occurred to him.

 “George, go back to the tailors, tell him I have one last request…..”

* * *

 

 Merlin was in a foul mood. Even though he was well on the way to recovery, his legs still ached with sharp pains sometimes and his chest itched as the skin healed under thick scabs. Added to that, the break in his left leg had been so bad and gone without treatment for so long that Gaius told him he would likely walk with a limp for the rest of his life and would never be able to run again.

There was also the fact that he was sure people were keeping something from him. Gwaine had been by to visit earlier and was annoyingly vague and smug when Merlin had asked what Arthur was up to that day. He’d asked Gaius about it too, but the old man had changed the subject so smoothly that Merlin hadn’t even realized he’d been diverted until about an hour later when the physician had already left to deliver some tonics and potions.

 Plus, he was confined to his bed by order of Gaius and had run out of things to do about five minutes after laying down. He was entertaining himself by making the candles fly off his nightstand and dance overhead in swirling patterns when the door to his room burst open startling him.

 His eyes returned to blue immediately and he felt a thrill of panic at being caught doing magic. Of course the candles dropped from the air, one hitting Merlin directly in the head.

“Honestly, I don’t understand how you were never caught before now.” The King of Camelot commented disapprovingly as Merlin rubbed his head.

Merlin blushed, ashamed at having been caught, and quickly changed the subject.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing at the large package in the kings arms. Arthur grinned.

“ _This_ is your present, should you choose to accept it.”

“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, taking the package gingerly as Arthur sat down on the bed.

“Well, accepting this gift comes with certain….stipulations.”

Merlin eyed him suspiciously. The king had his ‘I’ve had a brilliant idea’ look on, a look that in the past hadn’t boded well for the manservant. Never the less, he unwrapped the brown packaging and gasped as he saw what was inside.

They were the most beautiful clothes he’d ever seen. A royal blue tunic with a large pendragon dragon embroidered into the front and a long blue cloak that was remarkably similar looking to Leon’s after he’d magic’d it.

“Arthur, these are far too fine for a simple servant.” Merlin admonished.

“Good think you’re not a servant anymore, remember?” Arthur said dismissively. “But you’re right, and there in comes the ‘stipulations’. You only get to keep these if you accept the new job I’m about to offer you.”

“A _new_ job?” Merlin’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “What kind of job?”

“Why, Court Sorcerer, of course.”

The king got an incredible sense of satisfaction watching Merlin’s jaw drop with shock. But then the warlock frowned as something occurred to him.

“But won’t it look strange, you exempting only me from the ban on magic? The council will probably think I’ve enchanted you!”

“Hmmm, yes I suppose you’re right again…” Arthur teased. “It’s a good thing I lifted the ban on Magic this morning then, isn’t it?”

Merlin’s eyes darted up to the kings quick as lightning. He searched Arthur’s face looking for a lie, but all he saw was the joy reflected back at seeing his reaction. It was all too much for Merlin.

 Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over before he could stop them. He tried to hide his face, to stop Arthur from seeing him fall to pieces, but his next breath came as a sob he couldn’t hide. Soon he had lost himself completely as he cried.

 When Merlin came back to himself he was surprised to find his cheek buried into Arthur’s shoulder, his tears soaking the soft fabric. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there crying, but somehow Arthur had scooted up next to him and wrapped him in his arms soothingly. It was a show of affection he knew the king would be uncomfortable with normally, but for some reason he didn’t seem to care.

Merlin pulled away wiping his nose and eyes with embarrassment. But Arthur didn’t tease him for his ‘girlish’ behavior like he’d expected, instead looking at him with an honest concern.

 “You okay now?” 

Merlin nodded, feeling his cheeks flush with heat.

“So….is that a yes? You’ll be my court sorcerer?”

Merlin’s throat still felt like it had a sock stuffed down it, so he nodded, a shaky smile playing across his lips which Arthur returned.

 “Good, because you haven’t even seen the best part yet…..The hat!”

He pulled out of seemingly nowhere an almost two foot pointed atrocity the same color as the tunic with crescent moon’s and stars on it.

“It’s a cone.” Merlin deadpanned eyeing the headwear.

“Yes _Mer_ lin, you’re very observant. I’m told it’s all the rage in fashion.”

“For girls, maybe!”

 Arthur put his hands on his hips, very kingly:

 “Merlin, you are wearing that hat.”

“No. I won’t.”

“Merlin…..”

They argued/bantered together for another half hour, during which Merlin got a peaceful feeling he had never quite experience and was hard pressed to describe. It was like he finally belonged.

It was like he was home.

****

** END **

 


End file.
